


The Donor

by spaztronaut



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaztronaut/pseuds/spaztronaut
Summary: Felicity Smoak has always dreamed of being a mother and she isn't going to let a little thing like men stop her from making that dream come true. Having a baby by herself might just be biting off a little more than she can chew, but one way or the other it's about to change her whole life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been in a really bad writing slump. The worst part is that I AM writing but I can’t seem to get anything finished enough to post, so I’m going to post this fic that I’ve had written for awhile just to put something out there. This is part one of a three part fic that was originally intended as a one shot but it’s gotten kind of long. The second part is not finished yet and I’m not sure when it will be finished (hopefully sometime soon) but I hope you guys enjoy this anyway!

“Felicity Smoak?”

Felicity glanced up from where she was nervously wringing her hands together. The waiting room was empty except for the receptionist and the nurse standing in the doorway.

“Yes!” she chirped, jumping to her feet. “That’s me.”

The woman smiled warmly, gesturing for Felicity to follow her. “The doctor is all ready to go.”

A shiver went up Felicity’s spine. Why did they always keep doctor’s offices so cold? Were they purposefully trying to make the patients uncomfortable? Shouldn’t doctors be all about making their patients comfortable? A doctor’s office seemed like the type of place you’d want to be comfortable in.

The nurse led her into a room and handed her a blue paper dressing gown. “Get undressed and the doctor will be in when you’re ready.”

“Yup.” Felicity smiled. It was stiff and forced, but it was the best she could do, what with the butterflies currently racing around in her stomach.

The nurse’s sympathetic smile had her feeling caught.

“Everyone’s nervous during this part,” she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

With that, the woman left and Felicity stared after her a moment before quickly stripping off her orange dress and tugging on the thin paper one. She was folding her outfit neatly and tucking it beside her purse when the door opened again.

“Felicity?” a kind voice asked, and Felicity glanced up to see an older woman in a white coat enter the room. Short gray hair framed her thin face, and her gentle smile instantly calmed the nerves Felicity had been feeling all morning.

“Dr. Madigan.” Felicity smiled in greeting. “Hi.”

“It’s nice to see you again. How are you?” Dr. Madigan asked, placing a clipboard down on the counter and pulling a stool closer so she could flip through the paperwork.

“Nervous,” Felicity admitted with a laugh and the doctor grinned.

“That’s understandable. Artificial insemination is always a little scary, but for someone in your position it’s a little more nerve inducing.” The woman stood from her stool and gestured for Felicity to take a seat on the exam table. “Being a single mom takes courage. But you have the means, you have the financial stability. You’ve decided that this is what you want. Are you really going to let a few nerves stop you now?”

The paper on the table crinkled as Felicity hopped up, letting the doctor help her position her feet in the stirrups.

“No,” she said, voice firm. “You’re right. I want this. I’ve planned everything, been over all the pros and cons. I have a good job, a nice savings, and I’m ready for this. That’s more than you can say for a lot of couples who get pregnant.”

The doctor smirked, pulling a tray of supplies closer to the exam table. “Not to mention some of the best people I know were raised by single mothers. Myself, included.”

Felicity leaned back, closing her eyes. “Me, too,” she whispered, letting Dr. Madigan’s words wash over her.

She wanted this. She’d thought it through for the past two years. She was prepared. More than prepared. Hell, Felicity had even started a college fund.

She’d never wanted anything more than to be a mother. She wanted a good job and an impressive career, as well, but the last few years she’d been considering having children. Her last boyfriend hadn’t been interested, it was why they’d broken up despite the fact that he was kind of perfect for her.

“We’re too young,” he’d said. And maybe he had a point. Felicity was only twenty-six and despite her job being financially satisfying, it wasn’t the job she’d always dreamed of.

No, being Oliver Queen’s executive assistant wasn’t exactly what she’d gone to MIT for, but the money was good, her boss was one of her best friends, and it came with the promise of upward mobility.

_“Please, Felicity. Just for a while, just until I get the company on its feet again, then you can have any job you want. I promise.”_

It was a nice offer, but ultimately not why she’d taken the job. She’d said yes because Oliver’s father had just died, his mother was practically catatonic from the loss, and Oliver was left trying to fumble his way through a trial by fire to learn how to run a multi-billion dollar company that he had never wanted to run in the first place. She couldn’t have said no if she’d tried.

The first few months had been rough. She’d been frustrated with the new job, resentful even, but eventually they’d found their groove and everything had started to work itself out. Felicity discovered that being a glorified assistant had its perks, like getting to help Oliver make ground breaking changes to the company. She’d discovered that she was actually pretty good at this whole corporate business thing. She was socializing with the big wigs on the board and they’d even implemented some of her ideas.

But, still… There were plenty of people—inside and outside the company alike—who looked down on her for the job. People who didn’t understand why she would demean herself with a job like that, or why she would still be in said job two years later. The company was certainly doing better now. If there was ever a time to move on, it was now.

Truth be told, Felicity wasn’t sure why she was still there. She’d had plenty of job offers from big name tech companies. If she wanted out she’d had plenty of opportunities, but she hadn’t taken one yet.

Whenever she considered it she would think about Oliver and how lost he would be without her. Say what you will about Oliver Queen, but he always appreciated her opinion, which is the only reason she allowed herself to become his secretary in the first place.

Her ex, Cooper, hadn’t understood why she was so loyal to Oliver. He also hadn’t understood when Felicity’s biological clock started chiming for a baby. It wasn’t part of his life plan, at least not yet, but Felicity wanted it. She wanted a family, like she’d never gotten. And now, seeing her friends with their families… Oliver with his mother and Thea. Diggle and Lyla and baby Sara. Felicity was just sick of being alone. She was sick of going home to an empty apartment every night. And she was sick and tired of men leaving her. So she wanted a baby; a perfect little person that she would make sure never felt abandoned. Ever.

After Cooper left, Felicity started to play around with the idea of artificial insemination. It was just a joke at first, something she’d mentioned to Lyla once over drinks. But the more she thought about it, the more logical it started to sound.

She thought and she considered and somewhere along the way it stopped being a joke and started becoming a plan. And now here she was… Feet hooked up in stirrups as her doctor turkey basted her with the sperm she’d spent an entire three weeks picking out of the donor catalogue.

So, yeah, Felicity was nervous. But she was also excited to be starting on this new chapter of her life.

###

She couldn’t take it anymore.

It had been three weeks since the insemination and one week since Dr. Madigan confirmed that it had worked and Felicity was pregnant. And in that time Felicity had told… her mom.

Who, in her defense, had been extremely excited about the whole thing—there may have been screeching involved—but Felicity wanted to shout it from the rooftops not just to her mother on Skype. She decided not to say anything to her friends in case it didn’t work or in case anything went wrong, but she was dying to share the news with someone. Which is how she found herself excitedly scurrying into Oliver’s office that morning.

“I have news!” Felicity said, jumping onto the corner of Oliver’s desk. He was leaning back in his chair reading his email—more like funny animal slideshows Thea sent him—but tilted his head towards her, a worried furrow in his brow.

“What news? Did Palmer offer you a job?” He leaned forward, his chair jerking upright as he did. “Dammit! I knew that guy was going to try to lure you away the second he met you at that House the Hungry charity thing.”

“It was House the Homeless and no,” Felicity smirked, “Palmer is not trying to lure me away. Though, he did mention an opening at Palmer Tech when we were talking…”

Oliver narrowed his eyes and her smile widened. He was so easy to tease sometimes.

“Calm down,” she said, swatting a hand in his direction. “I’m not going to leave you for Ray Palmer.”

The visible relief her words brought Oliver was not something she wanted to think too much about, because one day she would leave. Not for Palmer Tech, but hopefully for a better position within QC. For now, though, she had more important things to discuss. If she could only figure out how to start this conversation.

This had seemed so easy in her head, but staring into his eyes… Where should she begin? She took a deep breath and decided to just jump right in.

“I’m pregnant.”

The tiny upturn of Oliver’s lips dropped along with his jaw as he stared up at her. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he snapped it shut.

“I…” He shook his head and glanced toward the wall of windows, looking out onto the city below for a long moment. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” Felicity said. And there it was. The moment of truth. This wasn’t a plan she’d discussed with anyone. Her drive to be a mother wasn’t something she’d talked about with anyone except Cooper and now she was a little scared that people would judge her. Oliver had no right to judge anyone about life choices, but still… She was nervous that he’d look at her differently once he found out about the artificial insemination.

“Oh.” Oliver blinked twice before looking down at his hands. “Oh. Well, I’m… here, if you need anything or you want to talk things over…”

Felicity frowned at his response. “Talk things… Oh! Oh, no! No, I’m not…” She gestured in a circle, indicating her stomach. “I got pregnant on purpose.”

“On–on purpose?” he stammered, looking at her like she had two heads. Just like everyone else would once they found out.

“Yes, Oliver,” she snapped, hopping off the desk and stomping around the other side to glare at him. “Mature, responsible adults can want to have kids, you know. Getting pregnant isn’t only something you do by accident when you’re wasted and sleeping with women whose names you’ve never bothered to ask.”

She knew she was being unfair, but she was feeling defensive. Sue her.

He stood and stepped around the desk, closing the space between them. “I just… I’m sorry, okay? You said you weren’t seeing anyone so I just assumed. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know,” she admitted quietly, glancing down at her hands, watching them fiddle around in front of her stomach. Her soon to be rounded-with-a-baby stomach. “I might be a little defensive, but… Artificial insemination isn’t exactly the normal way to get pregnant and you’re the first person I’ve told—”

“I am?” Oliver interrupted, an adorably surprised look on his face.

“Well, after my mother, of course.”

Oliver grinned, his eyes twinkling at the thought. “What did Donna have to say about it?”

“Oh, pretty much what you would expect. Pterodactyl noises, a few ‘I’m gonna be a grandma’s.” Felicity would never dare tell him that the first question out of Donna’s mouth was, “Is it Oliver’s?” No one needed to know that Donna’s one wish in life was for Felicity to make grandbabies with Oliver Queen. It was mortifying just thinking about it.

“Why haven’t you told anyone else?” Oliver asked, watching her with a small smile.

“I’m only a couple weeks in,” she explained. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything yet, but I was going crazy. I just needed to tell someone.”

“And you picked me?” he teased, his smile turning to a full on grin. “Because I’m your best friend?”

She laughed. “Hold up right there, buddy. You know John Diggle wins the best friend award. Trying to keep you in line has created an unbreakable bond between us.”

It was true. Ever since she met Oliver five years ago when he stumbled into her office in the IT department asking if she could fix his laptop after he spilt a latte on it, his bodyguard leaning in the doorway, laughing as she gave the billionaire a lecture about liquids near technology, the three had had a bond unlike any Felicity had ever experienced. She didn’t have any siblings, but she imagined her relationship with John was similar to that of a brother. Her relationship with Oliver was definitely not brotherly—she may not have siblings, but she knew you didn’t think about your brother the way she occasionally thought about Oliver—but they were still totally platonic friends. And if, on occasion, she enjoyed staring at the outline of his muscles through his dress shirts, well… no one had to know about it.

“I can’t compete with that, I guess.” Oliver laughed, and it sent a happy trill through Felicity, before he sobered. “I’m glad that you chose to tell me,” he added quietly, his eyes warm and serious.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” she asked, biting her lip.

“I think it’s brave,” Oliver said, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You do?” At his nod, she smiled, feeling her excitement build. “This doesn’t mean I don’t still want a promotion, btw. I mean, I’ll be taking some time off for maternity leave, so you’ll probably want a new assistant by then anyway. And when I come back I was thinking of looking for something in Applied Sciences. I’d really rather stay at QC, because we have an excellent daycare program—”

“Felicity,” Oliver laughed. “Whatever you want. As long as you’re staying. I will not lose my Girl Wednesday to Ray Palmer or anyone else.”

“It’s Friday,” she corrected with a shake of her head. “And… thank you, Oliver.”

Oliver reached out like he might touch her again, but changed his mind, dropping his hand back to his side. “I’m here for you, Felicity. You might have decided to do this on your own, but…” He took a small step closer, his voice soft as he said, “You’re not alone.”

Felicity felt warmth blossom in her heart and, yeah, okay. Oliver might be a lot closer to the role of best friend then she’d let on.

###

Felicity felt totally prepared for pregnancy.

She’d read almost every pregnancy book written before she’d decided to get artificially inseminated, asked Dr. Madigan what seemed like hundreds of questions judging by the woman’s soft sighs. She had created a budget, a nine month plan for work and even started taking meetings with the head of Applied Sciences who was more than happy to be stealing her away from Oliver.

“Genius like your’s,” Mr. Kapoor had said in their first meeting, “should not be wasted answering phones and planning schedules.”

She’d taken a little offense at that, but not much since it was true. She was too smart to while away her days behind a desk on the executive floor. She needed to get her hands dirty, so to speak.

Four months into her pregnancy and everything seemed to be going to plan.

The one thing Felicity hadn’t taken into account when she’d decided to have a baby? That everyone in the company would assume it was Oliver’s.

There had always been some gossip about the two of them. Nothing that Felicity couldn’t ignore. It was nothing but talk, so what did it matter? But now? Now that Felicity was pregnant, with no husband or boyfriend and with Oliver doting on her? It was becoming a point of frustration for her.

“Can you stop it?” she hissed at him as he chased her down in the lobby, trying to pull a stack of folders from her hand as she walked to her car. “I’m pregnant, Oliver, not an invalid.”

“I know that.” He blinked at her, then tugged the folders away from her anyway. “I just don’t want you overexerting yourself. What are you taking all this home for anyway? It’s Friday.”

Felicity huffed an annoyed laugh. “I’m taking all this home—” she gestured at the folders he was now holding “—because I need to finish reading all the fine print, unless you want to accidentally sell your soul in the deal with Kord.”  


Oliver rolled his eyes like she was being dramatic. “That’s what we have lawyers for, Felicity.”

By now a small group of employees were gathered near the elevators, pretending not to watch their boss and his assistant argue over who gets to carry a stack of folders. Felicity shot them a dirty look before shifting it to Oliver.

“Yes, and the lawyers sent these over with a note that said ‘please read and return by Monday’, which is actually your job, mister. So you know what? You want to carry them so bad, they’re all yours. Have fun.”

With that she stormed off towards the lobby doors, feeling her cheeks heat faintly when she saw one of the security guards smirk in her direction. Well, screw him too, she thought, pushing through the doors and out onto the street. Her car was parked in the garage, but she was too frustrated to drive home just yet. First she was going to get a cup of coffee. She’d been waiting all day to have it, but got too busy earlier, so now she was going to go across the street to the cafe, sit down in a booth and enjoy the quiet as she savored her daily allotment of caffeine.

Or so she thought until she went to push open the cafe door only to have Oliver and his stack of folders get to it first.

“Are you serious?” she groaned, tilting her head to the side in exasperation.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he said, shifting the folders awkwardly in one arm. “You’re right. Since you became my EA I’ve taken advantage of you and your willingness to help me with things that I… well, suck at. Like reading contracts. So, here’s my offer. I buy you a cup of coffee and you keep me company—and maybe answer a few questions—while I read through some of this, then I’ll do the rest this weekend and have it back to the lawyers by Monday morning. Deal?”

Felicity watched him for a long moment, before a small smile crossed her face. “You’d willingly read hundreds of pages of legal documents just to make sure I don’t, what did you say? Overexert myself?”

Oliver’s eyes took on a slightly panicked look. “Hundreds?” He gulped.

Felicity grinned, patting his chest as she walked by him and into the cafe. “Don’t worry. It’s not so bad. They marked the things they want you to look at. Plus, it’s a skill you’ll need once your new EA starts.” She scanned the place for an empty booth—she was becoming a real fan of cushioned seats these days—and decided on one in the far corner, away from the busy counter. Oliver would need at least relative quiet to understand the legal jargon in those documents. “Speaking of,” she said, leading Oliver over to it, “have you made any progress on that stack of resumes I gave you?”

“I skimmed it,” he said, noncommittally, as he placed his folders in the center of the table.

“Oliver, you only have a few months left, and I don’t want you backing yourself into a corner with this.” She wanted—no, needed—to make sure his new executive assistant was capable before she left, which meant hiring someone before she had the baby that way she could train them for a week or two. She didn’t want to leave Oliver with a stranger and just hope for the best. She was positive nothing good would come of it.

“I won’t,” he said, placing a warm palm on her shoulder. “I’ll go over the resumes and narrow it down to a few I want to interview. You can even make final pick if you want.”

“I just don’t want to abandon you…”

“You’re not,” he assured her, his thumb brushing a soft circle into her blouse and causing a tingle to run down her arm. He’d always touched her a lot, but ever since she’d gotten pregnant his touches were softer, more intimate, and that caused feelings Felicity would really rather not think about if she was being honest. “You’re moving on to better things, but we’re friends. I’ll miss getting to work with you everyday, but we’ll still see each other. I told you I’d be there for you if you needed it and whether that means making sure you don’t overexert yourself—” he smirked “—or changing diapers when you’re exhausted and need a break, I’m going to be there. So get used to it, alright?”

Felicity bit her lip, nodding slowly, and Oliver gave her shoulder a light squeeze before walking off to buy her that cup of coffee she’d been dreaming about.

So… maybe she could understand where the people at QC were coming from when they whispered about Oliver being the father. To be honest, with all the doting, there were times when Felicity nearly forgot he wasn’t.

But no, they were just friends. Really good friends, but still just friends. Besides, Oliver wasn’t really the father type. He was still having fun as a playboy bachelor, running around the city getting into trouble with Tommy Merlyn and being photographed with models hanging off his arm. Oliver Queen and baby diapers didn’t belong in the same sentence.

When the baby came, as much as she appreciated his offer, she wouldn’t be counting on him to actually follow through with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank @tdgal1 and everyone else who encouraged and motivated me to keep pushing through this chapter. All of your comments were much appreciated!
> 
> I’m not entirely happy with how this turned out, but my brain didn’t want to string two sentences together, much less an entire chapter, so it will have to do. Also you can thank my sick brain for not wanting to cooperate and write angst.

The high pitched screech yanked her from her sleep.

For the third time in less than two hours.

“Emma, please,” Felicity whined. “Just a few hours, just a few and then I’m all yours. Please.”

But she was already rolling out of bed, her boobs leaking uncomfortably as she made her way over to the bassinet.

She’d gone into labor in the middle of the night.

Thankfully her mother had taken a few weeks off as Felicity’s due date approached, that way she could be around to help when the baby was born. Felicity had never been more grateful to have Donna Smoak for a mother then when she’d woken in the middle of the night to the worst cramp she’d ever felt searing through her abdomen. Despite preparing for every inevitably of pregnancy, when the time finally came, she’d panicked.

“Mooooom!” she’d screamed, despite being a grown adult about to give birth to her own child.

But Donna had known exactly what to do. She’d helped Felicity into her Mini Cooper and grabbed her go bag, then drove them to the emergency room where she’d checked her in and waited with her for Dr. Madigan to show up. The one word Felicity never thought she’d use to describe her mother was calm, but in that moment Donna was the picture of serenity.

She’d held Felicity’s hand when the contractions hit, brushed her hair back from her face and told her to push when Felicity didn’t think she had it in her, and she cried with her when Dr. Madigan finally handed over the tiny human being Felicity had grown inside of her for the past nine months.

John and Oliver had shown up as soon as visiting hours started. 

 “I texted them from your phone while you were napping,” Donna said. “Caitlin and Iris are taking the train. They should be here later this afternoon.”

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but Felicity had cried. She’d also cried when Oliver showed her the flowers he’d brought her, so yeah. Definitely hormones.

Everyone had fallen in love with Emma at first sight. Felicity had never seen anything quite so beautiful. She felt like everything she’d gone through, everything she’d done to make this dream—her daughter—a reality, had been worth it. Donna had immediately gone to the gift shop and bought anything and everything they had with the words _It’s A Girl_ on it. John’s smile had gone soft and his eyes had gotten glassy, something she’d never seen from her friend except for the birth of his own daughter. And Oliver… Oliver just stared.

He’d watched as Felicity held Emma to her chest with a look of awe in his eyes. When a tear rolled down one of Oliver’s cheeks, John had asked Donna if she’d like to get a cup of coffee with him. Felicity noticed the wink her mother sent her way before she left, but chose to ignore it. As soon as they’d gone, Oliver had stepped closer.

“What’s her name?” he’d breathed as the newborn simply looked up at him with wide, clear blue eyes.

“Emma,” Felicity had told him.

“She’s perfect,” he’d whispered, a goofy grin on his face.

“Do you want to hold her?” she’d asked, a matching grin pulling at her lips.

Oliver’s eyes went wide, his grin morphing into an expression of pure panic. “No, I… I haven’t held a baby since Thea, and even then it was under strict supervision, I don’t… It's… I think—”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” Felicity had laughed, which thankfully seemed to cause Oliver to relax a little. “I’m right here,” she’d said, patting a spot beside her on the bed. “You won’t hurt her.”

Oliver stepped closer and Felicity scooted to her right, making more room for him beside her. He sat and she shifted the little bundle that was her daughter into his arms. Oliver took her cautiously, as if he were afraid he’d drop her, but once she was secure in his arms, he looked down at her and Felicity was sure the look in his eyes was what falling in love looked like. 

And that was why, at 1:30 pm on a Wednesday afternoon, Felicity sent Oliver an S.O.S. text, even though he was at work, and knew he’d show up anyway. 

He did, not even twenty minutes later. 

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” she said as she swung the door open, a crying Emma in one arm. “My mom left Sunday and I just… I need a break. Just for an hour or two, then I’ll be fine.” 

Oliver’s eyes tracked over her face and Felicity tried really hard not to blush in embarrassment. She was a mess, there was no denying it. Her hair was dirty, she hadn’t showered since Sunday, and her shirt had spit up on it, but, in her defense, it was really hard to take care of a newborn and yourself at the same time. But Oliver didn’t look disgusted with her, he didn’t mention her bedraggled appearance at all. Instead, he gave her a sympathetic look and smiled, reaching for the baby.   

“Come on, Em,” he said, like he was talking to an adult and not a two week old. “Mommy needs a little time to herself, but I’ve got you.”

Felicity reached over, squeezing his bicep in gratitude, before making a beeline to her bed. Her soft, soft, cozy bed. 

When she stirred awake, she was surprised to find it was dark outside her bedroom window. A quick look at her phone told her she’d slept for five hours, which was about four hours longer than she’d slept all week. Feeling a rush of gratitude toward Oliver, she climbed out of bed, stopping to throw on a clean shirt, then made her way out to the living room to see what her favorite two people had gotten up to while she was sleeping. 

She paused at the end of the hallway when she saw them. Oliver was sitting on the couch, Emma held tightly in his arms. The tv was on, but muted, Oliver too distracted by the sleeping infant in his arms to really pay much attention to the football game he’d turned on. He had her braced against his chest, his nose buried in her wispy blonde hair. 

“Are you sniffing her?” Felicity asked, grinning as she moved to sit beside him on the couch. 

Oliver stiffened, clearly surprised, but shot her a sheepish smile. “She smells good.” He ducked his head again, nuzzling his nose against Emma’s head while watching Felicity. “Is that weird?” 

“Probably,” Felicity laughed quietly, trying not to wake her daughter, “but I do it all the time. I think maybe it’s the baby shampoo. Maybe I should try it next time I take a shower.” She paused, grimacing. “Which should be soon, because I’m starting to get pretty gross here—”

 “Felicity,” Oliver murmured, lifting his head to smile at her. “You’re beautiful.”

A flush rushed up her neck, but she shook her head, smiling back. “I haven't washed my hair in three days, but I'll take it.” 

It was only when Emma started fussing that Felicity realized they were grinning at each other like two crazy people. 

“Oh, come here, baby,” she said, reaching out to take Emma from him. He passed her off easily, and Felicity positioned her at her breast.

“I guess she's hungry again. She finished her last bottle a couple of hours ago,” Oliver informed her.   

“It's fine,” she said, waving him off. “Can you pass me that blanket?” 

Oliver blinked and Felicity pointed behind him to a throw laying over the back of the couch beside him. “Oh,” he said, quickly passing her the blanket, then flushing when Felicity tossed it over her shoulders to cover herself as Emma began to breastfeed. 

He fidgeted beside her, eyes darting around the room as he rubbed his fingers together in a gesture she'd only seen when he was nervous about something. 

“What? Is big bad playboy Oliver Queen embarrassed by the thought of breastfeeding?” she teased as Emma went to town under the throw. Hopefully, after she finished eating she'd go down for another nap, that way Felicity could take a quick shower. 

“No!” Oliver denied, ears pinking. “No, of course not. It's… natural. It's just—” 

“Just what?” she asked, leaning back a little. She rarely saw Oliver flustered so this was something of a treat for her.

“I'm thinking about it,” he muttered quietly. 

Her breast, he clearly meant, and then she was the one feeling flushed from the admission. Despite how enticing the thought of teasing him some more was, Felicity decided a change of topic was preferable to the awkwardness of knowing your boss and friend was currently thinking about your breasts. 

“So how are things going with Audrey?” she asked. “I haven't checked in so…” 

“Things are fine,” he said, seeming grateful for the new subject. “Don't worry about anything work related, okay? Just take care of yourself and Emma. I promise the building will still be standing when you come back.” 

Felicity chuckled. “Good. I'd hate to have to find another job so soon.” 

“Kapoor can't stop singing your praises at staff meetings. He's already got a few projects planned that he's trying to get budgeted for when you get back.” 

Felicity grinned. “He told me. Said he was hoping that your soft spot for me would help things along.” 

“You don't need my soft spot to get me to sign off on projects, Felicity. I know how talented you are. Anything you do will be a massive success.” 

She chalked the wave of tears she felt threatening to break free up to her raging hormones and turned back to her daughter, who’d finally released her nipple. After adjusting her shirt back into place, Felicity removed the throw and tugged Emma closer. 

“Can I hold her again?” Oliver asked softly, watching the infant's eyes blink shut now that she was sated. 

Careful so as not to disturb her, Felicity handed Emma over to him, helping him settle her into the crook of his elbow. For someone who was so afraid to hold her just a couple of weeks ago, Felicity couldn't help but marvel at how quickly Oliver had taken to her daughter. This wasn't the first time he'd been over to help her out. He'd spent quite a few days with her and her mother over the past week, changing diapers, warming bottles. He was a natural and Felicity adored watching him fuss over Emma. She leaned over, propping her chin on his shoulder as Emma’s tiny hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Oliver’s thumb and tugging on it with all the strength she could muster in her drowsiness, attempting to pull it into her mouth.

“Thank you,” she whispered, eyes focused on her daughter. “For being here today.”

“You never have to thank me,” he whispered back. “I'll always be here, whenever you need me.”

###

Oliver glanced down at his watch for the fourth time in only ten minutes. The hands ticked forward slowly, mocking him. He'd agreed to this last minute meeting as a courtesy, but he could literally not wait until it was over. He had something much more important on his agenda than a meeting with Ray Palmer.

“The O.M.A.C. design was showcased three years ago by your father,” Ray rambled on. “I'm not sure why it was shelved after his death—” 

Oliver cut him off with a quick jerk of his head. “It’s because the O.M.A.C. project is a weapon, Mr. Palmer, and Queen Consolidated is not in the business of making weapons.”

After receiving Ray’s request for a meeting about the O.M.A.C. project, Oliver had looked into it. Weaponized armor created by a team of QC scientists a few years back. It was mostly theoretical. His father had flaunted the design at tech expos, praising its flight capability, but there was never even a plan to make a prototype. There were notes in the file about the viability of such a project, but honestly, Oliver just didn't think his father was interested in turning QC into a weapons manufacturer. 

“It's technology,” Ray argued. “And, with a few tweaks, it could be very impressive technology. I've recently come into possession of a large supply of dwarf star alloy. I believe it could solve some of the feasibility issues with the exosuit design.” He leaned forward, looking for all the world like an overexcited puppy. “I would like to partner with Queen Consolidated. You bring the design, I'll bring the material, and together we can make O.M.A.C. a reality.” Ray smiled giddily, shrugging a shoulder. “I am partial to changing the name to A.T.O.M. though. Rolls off the tongue—”

The ding of the elevator, followed by the harsh steps of uncertain little feet, was enough to bring a smile to Oliver's face despite Ray Palmer rattling on about names for theoretical weaponry. As soon as Emma came into view on the other side of the glass wall, Oliver was up and out of his seat. 

“I would love to discuss this further, Mr. Palmer,” Oliver said, rounding his desk, “but my next appointment is here.” 

He waved Emma and Felicity into his office as a confused Ray spun to see the newcomers. Felicity released her grip on Emma’s hand and the toddler made a—slightly unsteady—beeline for Oliver. 

“Felicity!” Ray smiled as soon as he saw her enter the room. His eyes darted to Emma, waddling across the green tile floor. “And this must be your daughter.” 

“My little M&M,” Oliver teased, lunging forward to sweep the girl off of her feet. She giggled as he swung her up into the air before settling her on his hip. 

“I'm sorry for interrupting,” Felicity said, shifting her large handbag further up her shoulder. “Oliver didn't tell me you had a meeting.”

“Don't worry about it,” Ray said, before glancing back at Oliver and Emma. “I didn't know you two were together.” 

“Oh, no! We’re not. I mean, he's not Emma’s father, he's just…” 

Oliver looked over to see Felicity, face flushed and gesturing animatedly as she tried to describe Oliver’s place in their life. It wasn't the first time someone had thought Emma was his, and he’d be lying if he said he didn't get a little thrill from the implication, but the truth was difficult to explain. He wasn't Emma’s father, but he wasn't just a friend of her mother’s either. 

“So you're not seeing anyone then?” Ray asked cautiously, causing Oliver to roll his eyes.

Ray had always had a thing for her. At least, Oliver had always thought so. Felicity claimed she had no idea what he was talking about, but judging by her flushed cheeks and large smile, she didn't mind the awkward flirting, much to Oliver's annoyance.

“I heard it was somebody's birthday today,” Oliver said, shifting his attention back to the toddler in his arms, “but I forget whose it was.”

Emma giggled, patting his stubbled cheek with her tiny hand. “Em-ma,” she said.

“It's Emma’s birthday? _That's_ who all those toys in my car must be for then,” he teased, causing the girl to erupt into a series of delighted shrieks, her messy brown curls bouncing as she wiggled happily in his grip

“I told you not to overdo it on the presents,” Felicity remarked and he glanced over to see her smiling at them.

“I didn't get her _that_ many presents,” Oliver insisted, but when Felicity raised her eyebrow in disbelief he grinned. “Some are from Thea.”

“I'm sure,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

A throat cleared, pulling Oliver’s attention back to Ray, who was looking back and forth between them.

“I should probably head out if we’re done here,” he said after a moment. “Just think about my offer and if Queen Consolidated still isn't interested in developing it, then I’m willing to buy the designs.”

“I'll take another look at the file and get back you,” Oliver offered, reaching out to shake on it.

Emma, emulating him, gave Ray her own hand to shake, which he did. Enthusiastically.

“Have a happy birthday, Emma.” Ray turned back to Felicity with what Oliver could only describe as an idiotic grin. “And hopefully we’ll get a chance to see each other again soon,” he said, shaking Felicity's hand for what Oliver felt was an excessive length of time.

“I'm sure we will,” Felicity said with her own dopey grin as Ray left, before turning back to Oliver. “We should get going, too. She's going to get cranky if we don't feed her soon.”

“She's going to get cranky or you're going to get cranky?” Oliver teased, delighting in Felicity’s scowl, but he quickly set Emma down so he could put the O.M.A.C. file away and grab his suit jacket.

Twenty minutes later they were seated at a booth at Big Belly Burger, Emma enjoying a plate of chicken nuggets. The little girl always seemed to have ketchup smeared all over her face, no matter how many times Oliver or Felicity wiped it with a napkin.

“Are you sure she wouldn't have liked a party?” Oliver asked, taking a large bite of his Belly Buster. “Because we could still—”

“She's one. She’s perfectly happy here with just us and her nuggets,” Felicity assured him for what must have been the tenth time this week. “There’s no reason to spend thousands of dollars on a party she's not even going to remember.” 

“I wouldn't have…” but he trailed off, knowing she was right. He'd googled party ideas for one year olds last month and he'd been obsessing over it ever since. Bounce houses and ball pits, clowns and cotton candy machines. Renting a petting zoo. He knew it was over the top, but he didn't want Emma to miss out on something if it was within his ability to provide it.

“I know you, Oliver,” Felicity said with a smile. “And I know Thea. And, whether she likes me or not, your mom would've gotten involved and then—” 

“My mom likes you,” Oliver insisted, pulling his milkshake closer to take a sip, then smiled as Emma mimicked him with her own drink. 

“She's always giving me these looks whenever I'm over with Emma,” Felicity said, narrowing her eyes in a poor imitation of his mother’s fierce glare. 

Oliver knew exactly what looks she was talking about, but wasn't about to explain the reason behind them was because his mother was convinced that Emma was his.

Oliver wasn't stupid, he knew there had always been rumors about the nature of his relationship with Felicity and he knew those rumors had gained steam once she’d gotten pregnant, but Moira had never paid much attention to that kind of thing. Until six months ago when Thea had insisted Felicity bring Emma over for dinner.

Moira had been absolutely charmed by the little girl, so when she cautiously approached Oliver the next day, asking who Emma’s father was, he didn't think too much about it. But then she hadn't let it go and her line of questioning had gotten more and more intrusive until she’d just blatantly asked him if he was the father.

“You have to have sex in order to have a baby, Mom.”

“I’m aware,” she'd said with a mocking tilt of her brow before shrugging. “I'm just pointing out that you and Felicity have been… _friends_ for sometime now.”

“Yes,” he’d said, “friends. Just friends, Mom. I am capable of being friends with a woman, you know.” 

Moira had huffed in disbelief. “I've seen the way you look at each other. And, you have to admit, the resemblance to your sister is uncanny.” 

“What are you talking about?” Oliver had asked, shaking his head. He and Felicity didn't look at each other any way. And Emma looked like a miniature version of Felicity. Well, except for her hair, which had been a warm blonde when she was first born, but had recently started to darken. In that regard, he supposed, she looked a bit like his sister, but Felicity dyed her hair, so it wasn't a stretch to assume Emma had gotten Felicity's natural hair color. 

But his mother had insisted. “She looks just like Thea did when she was born. I'll have Raisa find the photo albums to show you.” 

He'd stopped her from calling in their housekeeper, but Moira still wasn't sold on the artificial insemination. He wasn't sure what she thought was in it for them by lying, but no matter how many times he explained to her it was impossible, she still insisted that she could see the resemblance. 

Worst of all, he was starting to agree with her. He wasn't sure if it was just his mother getting in his head or if it was Emma’s constant need to follow him around no matter where they were and mimic him no matter what he was doing, but there was just something about her that reminded Oliver of his baby sister. 

But he couldn't very well tell Felicity all of that. Not without sounding like a lunatic or scaring her away from his family. “She's not…” Oliver shook his head. “It has nothing to do with you.” 

“It kinda seems like it has something to do with me,” Felicity said, popping a fry into her mouth. 

Not knowing what to say to get her to drop it, he decided to change the subject. “So Ray Palmer?” he asked, shaking his head. “Really?” 

The question caught her off guard and she tilted her head to the side. “What about him?” 

“I heard you flirting. Or, at least, I think he was trying to flirt with you,” he said, taking another sip of his milkshake. “He's not very good at it.”

“Not everyone has as much practice as you do, Oliver,” she said, then crinkled her nose adorably in what Oliver imagined was meant as disgust. “And that's not really a compliment.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes. “I can't believe you're actually into that guy.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” Felicity asked, to which Oliver could only shrug. “And I didn't say I'd date the guy, but…” 

“But what?”

“But it's nice to know someone's… interested, that's all.” She shrugged, grabbing a napkin to wipe a fresh smear of ketchup off Emma’s cheeks and nose. “It’s been awhile since anyone's shown interest in me for anything not work related. You know” —she laughed, tickling Emma’s side and making her giggle— “anyone who's potty trained, anyway.”

Oliver blinked, knowing that wasn't true. Men had shown interest. How many times in the past month alone had he gritted his teeth while some potential investor gave her a once over while she was explaining QC’s latest tech projects? Or her annoying friend Barry from Central City who was always tagging along with Iris and Caitlin. He’d definitely shown interest the last time he was in Starling, tripping over his words—and his feet—whenever he was around her. 

Hell, Oliver was pretty sure _he'd_ been showing interest for years. Sure, he’d never made a move, but he'd certainly flirted enough. Maybe… maybe he _should_ make a move. He loved Felicity, he knew he did, but… but was it love or was it _love_? He looked over at her, wiping Emma’s fingers clean with her napkin, and his heart constricted.

He loved them. Both of them. They'd become his family, as much as Thea and his mom were. But he and Felicity were _friends_ and, despite how much he loved her, Emma wasn't his daughter. And apparently Felicity had a thing for Ray _freaking_ Palmer.

Felicity said she wasn’t going to date him, but what if she did? He knew the only reason he was sitting here with them at all was because Felicity didn’t have anyone else. Her mother lived in Vegas, her father had never been in the picture, her two best friends lived six hundred miles away. Oliver had stepped in and helped with Emma when she needed him, but what happened when she stopped needing him? When she had a boyfriend or… or a husband to do those things?

“What's wrong?” Felicity asked, pulling him away from his thoughts, and he looked up to see her watching him intently. 

He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “Nothing.”

“You've got that little furrow on your forehead that means you're thinking too hard,” she said, using a fry to point at him. “And your jaw is so tense I can see the muscle ticking in your cheek.” 

“It's…” Oliver started to brush her off, but at her raised brow he sighed, giving in. Partially, at least. “Watching you flirt with Ray just reminded me of how easily someone could swoop in and replace me.” 

Felicity blinked and he could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to make sense of what he was admitting. Finally she smiled, looking far too amused in Oliver’s opinion. 

“I'm still not leaving you for Ray Palmer,” she teased, but when he could barely manage a smile in return she sobered, reaching across the table to take his hand. “You're one of my best friends, Oliver,” she said, her voice softening, her tone becoming resolute, “and you've been here for me every step of the way. It doesn’t matter who else comes and goes. There's no one that could ever replace you. In my life or Emma’s.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at her words, and turned his hand over to give hers a grateful squeeze.

Felicity smiled and Emma giggled and Oliver pushed away all thoughts of being replaced. He knew he was being ridiculous. He didn’t have to be with Felicity to be important to her, or Emma.

Anyway, it was probably for the best he keep those types of feelings to himself, he thought, finishing off his fries. Even if he somehow managed to convince Felicity to give him a chance, he'd just end up screwing it all up and then he'd really lose her. He'd lose them both, and he wasn't sure he'd survive that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever. I must have rewritten it like 30 times and I’m still not completely happy with it, but honestly I can’t look at it anymore. It needed to be posted. I hope you guys enjoy it.. or not. *hides*

An oppressive, muggy heat closed in on her from all sides as Felicity trudged up to the door of her townhouse.

Summer in Starling City was always humid, but this was downright suffocating. And it wasn’t just the heat getting to her, although she was glad that her office and apartment both had air conditioning. She’d already had a long day, staying late at QC to work on a last minute software update for a security program they would be marketing to the public the beginning of next month, when she’d received an emergency text from Ray Palmer, begging for her expertise.

They’d become friends over the past three months, meeting for coffee on lunch breaks and discussing his A.T.O.M. project. He’d been obsessing over it ever since Oliver sold him the designs and so he’d sought her out, asking for coding tips and tricks, sometimes even asking her help with the actual construction. Tonight he’d had a problem with the microprocessor.

It had only taken her a minute to figure out the problem—something she was sure he could have done himself if he wasn’t clearly running on just caffeine and determination. She was really going to have to talk to him about proper sleeping habits—but the detour added almost an extra hour onto her day. Now that she was home, all she wanted to do was take her shoes off, see her daughter, and bask in the glorious cool of central air. Oh, and wine. God, she needed a glass of wine… or three.

The glow of her living room lights through the window felt like a beacon, guiding her home. Or maybe it was just the man she knew was waiting inside for her.

She and Oliver had been in a weird place the past few months and it was throwing her off. Usually she knew how to handle her wild daydreams about him, about them, but ever since Emma’s birthday it was like he was all she could think about, day and night. She analyzed every word, every interaction, like a lovesick teenager. She’d thought she was being ridiculous at first, imagining the way he’d looked at her when he confessed his insecurities about her dating. Because why would her successful, billionaire best friend who was kind and handsome and perfect, not to mention completely devoted to her daughter, ever in a million years be in love with her? She couldn’t be that lucky. But with every passing day, every time Oliver found some reason to spend time with her and Emma, she couldn’t help but think… she might be.

Pushing her door open, she stepped inside, dropping her bag on the floor and kicking her heels off before turning to see Oliver grinning at her from the couch.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gravelly like he might have been dozing before she came in. He flicked the tv off, dropping the remote onto the end table.

“Hey. Did she give you a hard time going to bed?” she asked, stepping over to the couch and taking her earrings out. She dropped them on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside him. “She’s usually a good sleeper, but—”

“She was fine.” Oliver waved her off with another grin. “She didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you, but eventually she just got too tired to wait up anymore.” He yawned, checking his watch. “I can’t blame her. It’s way past her bedtime.”

“Thank you for staying with her.” Felicity leaned her head back into the cushions, giving him her most sincere smile. “I would have hated leaving her with a sitter this late.”

“You don’t have to—”

“—thank you,” Felicity finished for him with a laugh. “I know, but I want to.” She reached out, giving his knee a squeeze. “You deserve it.”

He ducked his head, a blush that she knew wasn’t from the heat outside rising in his cheeks, and suddenly all she wanted was to kiss him.

She’d wanted to kiss him before, of course—many times, if she was being honest—but never like this. This… need to lean over and press her lips to his was new and overpowering. She stood, going into the kitchen to put some distance between them.

“Do you want some wine?” she asked. “I need wine. Or I think I might have some beer.”

“Second shelf,” Oliver said and she ignored the domesticity of him knowing where things were in her kitchen. Of course he did, he’d spent the night taking care of her daughter. “So what was so important that it couldn’t wait until Monday?” he asked as she grabbed him a beer and then pulled out a half empty bottle of red wine. “You can’t exactly blame your boss for making you stay late.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass, pouring herself a healthy amount. “I really needed to get that update ready for the release. We can’t afford to have any nasty bugs on release day. And then Ray called.”

“Ray?” Oliver asked, sitting up a little as she walked back into the living room and handed him his beer. “Palmer? What did he want?”

“He needed some help with his A.T.O.M. suit,” she said, pretending she didn’t notice the jealous edge to his voice or the little thrill it gave her. “He’s an amazing inventor, but he’s a bit scatterbrained. Especially since I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept in at least three days from the looks of him.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, taking a long pull from his beer, and she smiled, rolling her eyes. He really was jealous. The idiot.

Smile still on her face, she scooted closer, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“He’s just a friend, Oliver,” she said, taking a sip of wine. When her tongue peeked out to catch a rogue drop at the corner of her mouth, Oliver’s eyes locked onto it, darkening ever so slightly, and her heart kickstarted, beating against her ribcage like it was trying to escape, as an urge to crawl into his lap nearly overwhelmed her. It would be so easy, to just lean in and see where it would lead. With any luck, she might even get laid tonight.

God, it had been so long since she’d had sex and this was _Oliver_. She’d wanted him for years and suddenly it was like Felicity’s whole world clicked into place. This… whatever this was between them… it had been growing for years. Building and changing until it was this near unstoppable force between them.

This, Felicity realized with startling clarity, was a fork in the road and she knew which path she wanted to explore. Of course she did, because who else would offer to pick up Emma from daycare and watch her until nearly midnight just to make Felicity’s life easier? Who else would surprise them with a private tour of the zoo because Emma loved pandas just as much as Felicity did? Who else would rush over at four o'clock in the morning because Emma’s fever spiked and Felicity was panicking? No one. No one else would ever care for them the way Oliver did and she felt a sudden overwhelming need to show him how much she cared in return.

“I told you” —her voice dropped low— “you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Calling up all of her courage, she leaned in until only a hairsbreadth separated them. Her eyes dropped to his lips just in time to catch the tip of his tongue skate out, his lips parting on a soft breath.

“Oliver,” she breathed. They were so close, just inches apart. Felicity ran her fingers up his stubbled jaw, her thumb hooking over his chin as she angled his face down to meet hers. She closed her eyes, sighing when his nose bumped hers, and she leaned forward to close the small distance between them.

The cushions shifted and his warm breath was suddenly replaced by the cool of the air conditioning. She wrenched her eyes open in time to see him jump off the couch like it was covered with fire ants.

Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, he avoided her eyes, rubbing his hands on his jeans as he stuttered, “I-I have to go. I just remembered I have this… this meeting… in the morning” —he gestured vaguely toward the front door— “so I should…”

“Oh!” Felicity gasped, but she still managed a fairly steady, “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” as he moved for the door.

His hand fell to the doorknob and he turned back, just briefly, to say, “I’m sorry.”

She bit her lip to hide the slight quiver, unable to manage more than a nod. He stared at her for a long moment, but once he pulled himself away from her gaze he didn’t look back in her direction, didn’t say another word, just closed the door behind him and… left.

Her lip started to tremble in earnest, but she slammed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, desperately trying to hold herself together. She’d really thought… but no. Of course not. She’d been kidding herself into thinking he—a harsh sob ripped from her throat—into thinking he loved her. She was an idiot. Mortification heated her cheeks, her eyes burning as tears escaped, rolling down her face.

She couldn’t even be angry at him. Oliver had never played games with her, he never promised her more than he could give. He was her best friend, why couldn’t she have just been happy with that? She might have just ruined a six year friendship because she couldn’t keep herself from projecting feelings onto a man she knew was incapable of returning them. What was she even thinking? Oliver Queen dated models, not single mothers.

Her wine glass teetered hazardously in one hand as she cried, and she glanced over to see Oliver’s beer sitting, nearly untouched, on the end table. What was she going to say to him? She couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol because they’d both barely taken a sip. She put her glass down and dropped her head into her hands, trying to regain her composure.

After a few minutes spent wiping at her face and pulling herself together, she picked up her wine glass, gulping the entire thing before deciding that drinking from the bottle was appropriate to the situation. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, drowning her sorrows at the bottom of the now empty bottle, before a high-pitched whine cut through the silence of the apartment.

Emma.

“I’m coming, baby,” Felicity called, putting the empty wine bottle on the table and wiping her eyes. She’d be damned if she let her daughter see her crying. “I’m coming.”

She moved to Emma’s room slowly, checking her reflection in the hallway mirror before going in. Emma was standing in her crib, gripping the edges so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

“Momma!” she cried and Felicity ran to her, scooping her out of her crib.

“I’m here,” she murmured, burying her face in Emma’s hair. It was damp with sweat and she pulled back, sweeping it away from the little girl’s face. “Did you have a nightmare, baby?”

Emma placed her hand on Felicity’s cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears, which almost had her crying all over again. Had her crying woken her daughter up? The same way Felicity used to wake up to her mother’s soft sobs after her father left?

Emma leaned down, pointing at something in her crib, and Felicity tightened her grip to make sure she didn’t fall. Readjusting the little girl in her arms, she carefully leaned down, picking up the stuffed green M&M that Oliver had gotten Emma for her birthday. Felicity held it to her chest, fighting back against the fresh wave of tears that threatened to overtake her.

Oh god, had she just ruined her daughter’s relationship with Oliver?

She closed her eyes, shaking the thought off. Oliver wasn’t like her father. He loved Emma and he wouldn’t abandon her just because Felicity got handsy one night. He’d told her he was worried about being replaced, about losing Emma. He wouldn’t let some stupid misunderstanding get in the way of his relationship with her. If she knew anything about him it was that he loved his family more than life itself, and she knew he considered Emma family.

“You want to sleep in Mommy’s room tonight?” Felicity asked, already moving towards the door.

“Yeah,” Emma mumbled, laying her head down on Felicity shoulder and placing a thumb in her mouth.

“Good.” She dropped a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “Mommy could use the cuddles tonight.”

Usually Felicity tried to keep Emma in her own bed as often as possible, but tonight she just couldn’t stand the thought of Emma sitting in her crib, wondering if her mommy was still crying, the way Felicity used to as a child.

No more crying over men, Felicity decided, carrying her daughter across the hall and into her bedroom. Not even men as incredible as Oliver Queen.

###

“Let me get this straight.” John said, lifting the massive dumbbell in his hand. “Felicity tried to kiss you—Felicity Smoak, the woman you’ve been half in love with for the past six years” —Oliver had a strong urge to roll his eyes but let the man continue— “and you just… left?”

He and John Diggle, his bodyguard-slash-best friend, were in the executive gym at Queen Consolidated, getting in their early morning workout before business hours began, just like they did every Monday morning. Except today John had a little more to berate Oliver for than just skipping leg day over the weekend.

With a sigh, Oliver finished his last pull up, then dropped down onto the mats. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god.” John sighed, dropping the dumbbell to the ground beside him. “I thought you’d grown out of your self destructive phase.”

Oliver grit his teeth. “It isn’t like that. I’m trying to protect her.”

“From you?” John asked, his eyebrows raised incredulously, before shaking his head. “Man, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say and I knew you back before Felicity kicked your ass into gear.”

“Exactly,” Oliver said. “You knew me before. You know what I was like. Every girlfriend I’ve ever had has hated me afterward. And they’ve had good reason.”

John shook his head. “Because you cheated on them or lied to them or god only knows what else.”

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but Oliver had never been the kind of guy to win boyfriend of the year. When he was a teenager he’d mostly jumped from girl to girl, never getting involved enough to have to worry about anyone’s feelings. In college he’d started dating Laurel Lance, a friend he’d known since elementary school, and it hadn’t been as easy to keep things casual. She’d wanted a future with him—a house, marriage, kids—but Oliver wasn’t ready to commit to those things with her. He’d panicked and ended up cheating on her with her sister. Since then he’d only seriously dated a handful of women, but unfortunately it hadn’t gone much better with any of them.

“Exactly,” Oliver said again, resignation in his voice. “I can’t do that to Felicity.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” John asked, a quiet understanding permeating his voice. “That you’re going to cheat on her?”

Oliver pressed his lips together. Just hearing the words said aloud left a sour taste in his mouth. “Or run away,” he said with a shake of his head. “When I get overwhelmed I tend to make bad decisions. It’s what I’ve always done.”

It’s what he’d done Friday night. Felicity had caught him off guard with that almost kiss, but it was no excuse. He’d wanted to kiss Felicity for years and he realized now just how much he cared for her. What did that say about him that she’d given him the perfect opening and, instead of taking it, he’d run out the door as fast as possible?

John watched him for a long moment before walking over to his bag and grabbing his towel. “Oliver…” he started, taking a seat on the weight bench. “What makes you think you’ll be overwhelmed? Your relationship with Felicity—”

“It’s not just my relationship with Felicity I’m worried about,” Oliver rushed to explain. He sighed, hanging his head. “With Emma… It’s a complicated situation.”

“It is,” John agreed with a nod. “But you love Felicity and you love that little girl and that’s not complicated.”

Oliver ran a hand through his sweat damp hair. John was right, but he was also wrong. Oliver loved Felicity and Emma, with all his heart, but that’s why he couldn’t take any chances with them. His biggest fear was that he’d get in too deep and get that panicky feeling in the pit of his stomach that always caused him to run. That he’d end up hurting Felicity and Emma in the process. He couldn’t live with himself if he did that to them, yet he was terrified that if he got involved with Felicity it would only be a matter of time. Like some doomsday clock would start counting down to his own self destruction.

Oliver sighed, moving over to his bag to grab his water bottle. “She deserves better than I can give her,” he said, pulling the cap off and taking a swig, before dropping it back into his bag and heading for the treadmill to cool down.

John shook his head. “She deserves to be happy and you do to. I’ve never seen you happier then when you’re with Felicity and Emma. You’ve come a long way, Oliver. Don’t sell yourself short just because you’re scared.”

“I don’t trust myself with them,” he said with a shake of his head.

John pinned him with a knowing look. “You’re gonna regret this decision,” he said, his voice soft, but firm. “I wish you would reconsider.”

His words hit Oliver directly in the chest, because he’d been reconsidering ever since he’d left Felicity’s apartment Friday night. He’d walked to his car and hadn’t even been able to open the door to leave. He’d just sat there, leaning against the driver’s side for twenty minutes, willing himself to go home. Or maybe he’d been willing himself to go back inside, pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless the way he should have done in the first place. But it was pointless, because he’d already proven what sort of man he was. He’d run instead of embracing the gift she’d been on the verge of giving him. She’d tried to invite him into her life, into Emma’s life, in a way he’d longed for, yet he’d still run. If he begged her to give him a second chance and then hurt her… He’d lose her forever. He couldn’t risk it.

“There’s nothing to reconsider,” he said, keeping his voice light as he hopped up on the treadmill and turned it on.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” John said, collecting his things. “And I just hope you realize it before it’s too late.”

Oliver cranked up his treadmill to max speed, ignoring the disappointed look in John’s eyes as he left the gym to shower and change for work. He didn’t need John’s approval to know he’d made the right decision. No matter how much it hurt, they’d all be better off in the end.

###

The best thing about Queen Consolidated’s daycare program, in Felicity’s opinion, was that it was located only two floors down from her office, which meant she and Emma got to spend lunch together most days. Mondays were always busy for her though, so Oliver had taken to bringing Emma up to his office for lunch.

Emma loved it. She always asked for an extra cookie in her lunch box on Mondays to share with him. And Felicity loved that Emma had that male influence in her life. She’d never had that growing up, and she knew she’d never be able to thank Oliver enough for giving that to her daughter.

But this Monday, Felicity wasn’t sure Oliver would be up for it. No, that wasn’t true. She was scared he would skip out on lunch with Emma because of Friday night, which is why, despite her schedule and the amount of unfinished paperwork on her desk, Felicity found herself quietly waiting for the elevator to let off on the daycare’s floor around lunchtime.

She froze in her tracks when it did.

Coming from the other end of the hall, where the private executive elevator was located, was Oliver, Emma in his arms. He didn’t notice Felicity right away, engrossed as he was with whatever Emma was babbling about. She couldn’t form whole sentences yet, but Oliver had never let that stop him from having a conversation with her.

Felicity’s heart swelled at the scene before her, but then she met Oliver’s eyes and all of the embarrassment of Friday night came rushing back to her.

“Hey,” he said, stopping outside the door of the daycare center.

She forced her feet to take the few steps forward to meet him, eyes nervously settling on all of the children quietly coloring and doing other activities on the other side of the daycare’s large picture window.

She stopped in front of Oliver and gave Emma a smile and a wave, focusing on her instead of meeting his eyes again. “Are you guys finished with lunch already?”

“Uh, yeah.” He shifted from foot to foot, bouncing Emma a little as he did. “I have a meeting in a few minutes and I don’t know how long it’s going to last, so I took her for lunch a little early. Did…” He trailed off and Felicity finally glanced up at him. “Is that okay?” he asked, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him. “Because I understand if you… I mean” —he shook his head— “if you didn’t want me to, because of… what happened.”

The knot that had taken up residence in Felicity’s stomach ever since Friday tightened just a little bit more. She hadn’t been prepared to even see him today, let alone talk about what had happened, but now that he’d mentioned it she couldn’t let him worry about his place in Emma’s life.

“Of course I want you to,” Felicity said. “She loves this time with you, you know?” She bit her lip, glancing away from him to look at her daughter in his arms, and decided to be brutally honest. “I know you’re not her father, but you’re the closest thing she’s ever had. No matter what happens—or doesn’t happen—between us, I hope that that won’t change.”

When she dared look back up at him, Oliver was nodding, but the expression on his face… His eyes were glassy, his smile soft. Felicity had to look away again before she did something else to embarrass herself.

“How about we get you back to daycare, huh, baby?” she said, reaching out for the toddler. Oliver leaned forward so that Emma could wrap her arms around Felicity’s neck. “I’m gonna…” She nodded towards the door beside them.

“Yeah, okay.” Oliver leaned down a little until he was at eye level with Emma. “Have fun with your friends, Em. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye bye, Olva,” Emma said, curling her little fingers into her fist to wave him goodbye.

Oliver moved to hold the door open and Felicity smiled before slipping inside and dropping Emma off with her group. She kissed her on the head and said her own goodbyes. When she pushed back out into the hallway she was startled to see Oliver waiting for her, leaning against the wall by the doors.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked. “I thought you had a meeting?”

“I do,” he said, hesitating slightly. “I just wanted to make sure that we’re… okay.”

This wasn’t exactly the time or place for this talk. Felicity had hoped it would be in private and, you know, never. It was so much easier to talk about Emma then it was to discuss her own relationship with him, but the nervous glint in Oliver’s eyes told her that he needed her answer.

“Yes. We’re… we’re okay.” She gulped, crossing her arms over her chest. Glancing down at her feet, she tried to reign in the wave of emotions she was feeling. They’d always been comfortable around each other, could always talk about anything, but she’d gotten his message loud and clear Friday night. She didn’t need the follow up, but… “I just…”

“Just what?” he asked, softly, and goddammit, she started to tear up.

“I just hope that I didn’t mess anything up.”

“Hey. You didn’t mess anything up. It’s not…” He shook his head. “Felicity, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m not…” There was a long pause and then he said the last thing she was expecting. “I’m not exactly boyfriend material.”

She glanced up at him, biting her lip. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that. Every long term relationship he’d ever had had gone up in smoke. She’d just thought that maybe he’d outgrown all of that. Maybe… He reached out, cupping her shoulders gently, and she closed her eyes again, hating the way his touch made her want to melt and cry at the same time.

“You’re my best friend,” he said and she nodded in agreement. “I don’t ever want to do something to compromise that. Especially not with Emma…”

She understood, she did, but it didn’t make her heart ache any less. So Felicity did the only thing she could think to do in this situation. She pushed down all of her feelings and she lied. Or, at least, downplayed.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to say,” she said, nodding in agreement. “The other night… I was exhausted and it's… been awhile since I’ve dated. I don’t know what got into me. I guess I just…” She smiled sheepishly, swallowing down the hurt she felt until she was safely in her own office and not standing in the hallway facing him. “I got caught up in the moment, but Emma is my priority and I’m really glad she’s your’s, too.”

“You’re my priority, too,” he whispered, squeezing her shoulders ever so slightly. Felicity fought to keep her face neutral and her smile pleasant. She wanted to melt into him, to let him hold her like he always did when she was upset, but she couldn’t. No matter what she said she had real feelings for him and if she put her arms around him she was afraid it would be too hard to let go. He finally pulled back, giving her a soft smile. “I have to get to that meeting, otherwise the board might vote me out behind my back.”

Felicity laughed, but it was more forced than she’d like and it was obvious he could tell if the downward twitch of his lips was anything to go by.

“I’ll see you,” he said, giving her shoulder one last soft squeeze before he turned and made his way back toward the executive elevator.

Felicity could feel her heart breaking a little with every step he took. She was happy with the outcome of their talk, she was. She hadn’t exactly planned on seeking him out, hoping that burying her head in the sand would be enough to get passed the awkwardness, but now she knew for sure that Oliver was around for good. He loved her, maybe not in the way she wanted him to, but it was enough. And he loved her daughter and wanted what was best for her. She understood that and appreciated it.

She’d get over these feelings she had for him, she was sure. And once she did, they’d be back to the friends they’d always been. And that was for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr [@spaztronautwriter](https://spaztronautwriter.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Good news is, the most difficult part of this fic for me to write has been officially written and now just needs some fine tuning, so it shouldn't be such a long wait next time. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Felicity tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to fend off the cool fall air as she made her way into Jitters.

She’d worn her lightest leather jacket, knowing that the chilly morning would give way to a sunny seventy degree day once the sun broke over the surrounding buildings, but for now she was glad to be inside and about to wrap her hands around a steaming mug of coffee.

Usually Felicity would have breakfast at home with Emma before dropping her off at daycare and getting to work, but since her mom was staying with them for the week she'd decided to let them both sleep in a little. And if that meant a little alone time at her favorite coffee shop before work, then so be it.

She’d just sat down with her coffee and breakfast sandwich when the morning rush swept in. Felicity was glad she'd managed to swipe a table early, because they were filling up fast. A man approached as she was chewing a large bite of her sandwich.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked as she struggled to swallow the bits of bagel, egg, and bacon that currently made it impossible to talk.

“No, no, go ahead,” she said, gesturing to the seat across from her.

“Thanks.” He placed his food on the table and sat down. “I only have a few minutes for breakfast and I really didn't want to have to eat in the car again.”

Felicity looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. Brown hair, blue eyes. Lots of stubble. He was cute, in a shaggy, unkempt sort of way, but he had a nice smile. She had a thing for smiles. Oliver had a great smile when he wasn't being a brooding idiot.

Ugh. She really needed to stop making everything about Oliver. It had been a month since “the incident” as she’d taken to referring to it. Not that she referred to it much, not even in her own head. It was in the past and she was much happier not thinking about it. They'd come to an understanding and, while Felicity made a point not to spend quite so much time with him as she had been, they were still friends and he still saw Emma almost daily. She just needed a little time to get over her crush, that was all.

“You okay?” the man sitting across from her asked and she realized she'd been staring.

She scrunched her face in embarrassment and laughed it off, explaining that she'd been thinking about other things. Of course, when he guessed, she let him think those other things were work related and not Oliver Queen related.

They ended up having a very nice—albeit very short—conversation. His name was Billy Malone and he was a detective with the SCPD. He was working on a case which was why he was worried about eating in his car. Apparently that was something of a regular occurrence for him. By the time they were both finishing the last bites of their respective breakfasts she was glad they'd ended up sharing a table. He was surprisingly easy to talk to.

“So…” he said, folding his wrapper neatly before popping the lid on his empty coffee cup and throwing it inside. “Is it weird if I ask you for your number? Because if it's weird then I won't ask.”

He smiled charmingly at her and she wanted to laugh, she meant to laugh. Instead she sat there, perfectly still, with her mouth hanging open.

It wasn't that she was surprised. She’d gotten the feeling that was where their conversation was headed. She even wanted to give him her number. He was nice and they'd gotten along pretty well as they'd shared breakfast, but the last time she'd put herself out there with a guy she'd been sorely disappointed. She didn't blame Oliver for his feelings, but she was still licking her wounds and while it was nice to have a man show interest, she wasn't sure she was ready. And with Emma… Oliver had been right about that. She loved her daughter, desperately, but she did complicate matters. It was one of the reasons Felicity hadn't really even considered dating before now. She liked to tell herself the other reason was how busy she was with work, but if she were being brutally honest, she knew it was really because of Oliver. She'd been so busy  _ not _ dating Oliver that she hadn't had any time for other men, and she'd foolishly let herself get swept up in the fantasy that they were meant to be.

But they weren't and it was past time to move on.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said and Felicity realized she'd taken too long to answer him. “It was weird. Forget I said anything. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“No! I'm not uncomfortable,” she assured him.

But the truth was she was uncomfortable, about so many different things. Billy didn't make her uncomfortable—or his attention towards her didn’t—but, as she was beginning to realize, dating might be a little more difficult than she remembered now that she had a child to consider. She'd never had to deal with it before because she’d never dated before, and even when she was fantasizing about Oliver, she knew he already loved Emma as much as she did. But Billy…? Would he still be interested once he found out she had a one year old?

“Let me guess,” he said with a kind, almost self-deprecating smile. “Married? Dating someone?”

“No, I'm not married. Or dating. I'm…” She pursed her lips, glancing down quickly before meeting his eyes again. “I… am single.”

“You don't seem too happy about that,” he said, while Felicity fiddled awkwardly with her coffee cup. “Bad break up?”

“No. No, nothing like…” Felicity took a deep breath, internally counting to three before pulling off the figurative bandaid. “It's just that I… um, I have a daughter.”

She watched him carefully, waiting for the awkwardness to settle in. Waiting for him to make an excuse about the time and walk away. Instead, he smiled.

“That's awesome,” he said, beaming at her. “I know it's not quite the same, but I'm always hanging out with my niece and nephew. Taking them to the zoo and things. They're six and eight.” He gave her another charming smile and shrugged. “Maybe we can get them together sometime…”

“Well, Emma’s fourteen months,” she said with a grin, “so they probably wouldn't have a lot in common. Unless your niece and nephew are still into diapers.”

Billy laughed. “Yeah, probably not then. But… maybe  _ we _ could still get together sometime? If that's” —he shrugged again, looking truly nervous for the first time. It was adorable— “something you're interested in?”

Despite herself, Felicity still hesitated. A nice, attractive man was asking her out—adorably, she might add—and still all part of her could think about was how  _ not _ Oliver he was. But she shouldn’t be thinking like that. She needed to get Oliver out of her head, and maybe going out with Billy was the best way to do that.

Billy noticed her hesitance and stood from the table, picking up his trash and giving her a kind smile. “Or not. It's okay, don't worry about—”

“No!” Felicity interrupted. “Or, not no.  _ Yes _ . I think I would like to get together sometime. It's just that… with my daughter it's hard to find the time.”

A grin spread over Billy’s face and he moved closer, placing his empty cup down and pulling his phone from his pocket. He punched in the passcode before handing it to Felicity. “That's fine,” he said. “What about coffee? Think you can swing a half hour or so during lunch tomorrow? We can see where it goes from there?”

“I can definitely do lunch tomorrow,” she said, her own grin taking over as she typed her number into his phone. “Here? 1:30?”

“You've got yourself a date,” Billy joked, taking his phone back and slipping it into his pocket.

They parted ways a minute later, Felicity needing to get back to QC and Billy needing to check in on his case. A sliver of excitement wedged itself into Felicity’s chest as she thought of tomorrow. It was surrounded by the anxiety that always accompanied a first date, but it was there.

For the first time in a month, Felicity was thinking about someone other than Oliver or Emma, and she needed that. It was good for her to get out and meet someone new and Billy seemed like a great guy. Maybe, if things went well, she'd finally start getting over her feelings for Oliver.

###

A gentle snowfall blanketed the world around him as he exited the town car. The soft crunch of crisp snow as he made his way up to the house reminded him of winters past, when he and Tommy would play out in the snow for hours until someone—sometimes his mom, usually Raisa—would make them come in to get warm and drink hot cocoa by the fire.

They’d come a long way since then, and Oliver wished, more than anything, that things could be that simple once again. It seemed nothing was simple anymore. Especially not in the past few months. Ever since…

Oliver shook off the wave of emotions he knew would barrel down on him if he let that thought see itself through.

Tommy’s Porsche sat in the driveway, a light coat of snow atop it. Clearly he’d been here waiting for at least a little while. If the urgency he felt to hurry inside so his friend wasn’t left waiting was less about Tommy and more about distracting himself, well… no one had to know.

He should hurry, anyway. The game was starting in an hour and he'd been stuck in traffic for the past forty-five minutes. They’d be lucky to make it to the Garden in time for first quarter. It was like Starling had never seen a little snow before.

He brushed a few snowflakes from his hair and hung his peacoat on the rack in the foyer. He was about to head upstairs to change out of his suit when his mother’s laughter rang out from the adjoining sitting room, catching his attention. Knowing Tommy was the only person who could make Moira Queen laugh like that, Oliver walked into the room to let him know he'd be ready to go in a second. He found them sitting on the couch, each with a photo album in their hands.

“What are you two up to?” he asked, leaning over to look at the photo his mother was currently pointing at.

She startled slightly, putting a hand to her chest. “Oliver, don't sneak up on people like that. It's rude.”

“Sorry, Mom,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek. That's when he noticed what she was looking at. “What is this?” he asked taking the album from her and sitting down on the arm of the couch.

The photo was of Emma, which was weird since he didn’t have many printed photos of her and he didn’t know his mother had any at all. Weirder still, he had no idea where this photo had been taken. There was a brick fireplace in the background and Emma was standing in front of it, wearing a onesie he’d never seen before. Neither Felicity nor any of their friends had a fireplace, and none of the ones in the mansion were made of brick.

Moira straightened her spine, watching him in that way she had that always left him feeling like he was a kid again. And not in that free, easy way that being out in the snow had.

“Tommy and I were just looking at family photos,” she said, gesturing to a box on the coffee table. “Trying to decide which ones we should display at the Christmas party this year.”

“Where’d you get this?” Oliver said, studying the photo. “And where was it taken? I don't remember this.”

He briefly wondered if maybe the photo had been taken at Felicity’s boyfriend’s house or something and that's why they were being weird. Not that he could blame them. He hadn't been in the greatest mood ever since he'd discovered that Felicity was dating someone. It wasn’t… something he liked to consider much. Now that she'd been seeing the guy a few months he liked to think he was starting to adjust to the idea, but old worries of Emma forgetting about him resurfaced as he looked back at the photo, his gut churning.

He hadn’t seen much of Felicity lately. At first he’d assumed she’d just been avoiding him, putting some distance between them until memories of their almost-kiss faded, but then a few months ago Thea had mentioned seeing Felicity having lunch with a man. A definitely-not-a-business-lunch-because-they-were-holding-hands-Ollie kind of lunch. His heart had dropped into his stomach and it had pretty much taken up residence there ever since, but he knew he didn’t have a right to feel that way. He’d been the one to push her away. She was a beautiful, intelligent, kind woman who deserved to be loved. They’d talked—briefly—about it, but she’d thankfully spared him most of the details. Just that she’d met Billy at Jitters in September and they’d been seeing each other ever since. She seemed happy and he was  _ glad _ she was happy—he wanted her to be happy—but it still killed him to know she was spending her time with someone else.

Emma, though, he’d made a point of seeing. He saw her almost every weekday for lunch and sometimes on the weekends if Felicity needed help with her. It wasn’t as often as he’d gotten used to seeing her, but he tried to respect the boundaries Felicity had drawn between them while still seeing Emma as much as possible. She’d told him he was the closest thing Emma had ever had to a father and he couldn’t mess that up. But… what if he’d already let too much distance come between them?

He knew Emma was spending time with Felicity’s new boyfriend. The knowledge had been burning in his gut ever since he found out Felicity was dating, but it had hit home today. Felicity had had a last minute meeting and he’d stopped by her office to ask if she wanted him to watch Emma until she was done. He’d been on the verge of calling Tommy to let him know he couldn’t make it to the game, when she’d said, “Oh, no, it’s alright. Billy’s swinging by with Big Belly Burger and he’ll hang out with her in my office till the meeting’s over.”

It had nearly knocked the wind out of him. All he could do was nod—more just a nervous jerking of his head than any sort of agreement or understanding. He hated that she had some guy she’d only just met a few months ago watching Emma, but he had no right to complain. It was her daughter. Her boyfriend. Her decision.

He’d left her office feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. Like he’d finally lost her. Them. He had, and he only had himself to blame. He’d had his chance with her, for years he’d had chances, and he’d never taken one, even when she’d clearly wanted him to. And it wasn’t like anything had changed. They deserved better, and maybe Billy was better, but it was a hard thing to swallow. Especially when every bone in his body was screaming for him to do something. To get his girls back, because he didn’t know what his life would look like without them. He wasn’t sure it even was a life without them…

“That was at our old cabin in Aspen,” Moira said, nostalgia in her voice. “You and Thea used to love it up there, remember?”

“What?” he asked, glancing up at his mother. His eyes dropped back to the photo for a moment and when he looked back at her, she was watching him with a small, knowing smile.

“Oliver,” Moira said softly. “That's a photo of Thea.”

Oliver blinked in confusion, pulling himself out of his spiraling thoughts, then glanced back down at the curly haired little girl in the photo. “No… no way.”

“That's what I said,” Tommy laughed. “I can't believe I never noticed. They’re practically identical. It’s kind of freaky.”

“No,” Oliver said again, shaking his head. There was no way. He knew Emma reminded him of Thea, but this… This was impossible. She had the same hair, the same eyes, the same smile!

“The date should be on the other side,” his mother said and Oliver carefully reached into the plastic covering, sliding the photo out of the album. The numbers, printed on the back in faint gray ink, indicated that this was in fact a photo of Thea, not Emma.

“That’s…” Oliver flipped the photo back around and tried to see his little sister in it. It wasn’t hard now that he knew, but he still couldn’t shake the uncanny resemblance. “It’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” his mother was quick to interject. He glared in her direction, about to give her the old ‘Felicity and I are just friends’ speech for the hundredth time when Tommy spoke up.

“She’s right, Oliver,” he said. “Even you can’t deny it’s really hard to look at that photo and not wonder—”

“Don't you start, too,” Oliver said, huffing an exasperated sigh. “For the last time, Felicity and I have never had sex. We’re just friends.”

“Oliver,” Moira said, and Oliver could feel the same old argument coming. And honestly, he couldn’t take it. Not today.

“No, Mom! Emma is not my daughter.” He set the photo and the album on the coffee table. “Let it go.”

“I know you donated sperm, Oliver. So I will not  _ let it go _ !”

Oliver felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him for the second time that day. He glanced up at his mother, who was still sitting regally on the couch, but the look in her eyes was fierce. Determined. He blinked at her before turning to glare at Tommy.

“You told her?” he growled, and his friend’s eyes widened.

Tommy stood from the couch, holding his hands out in front of him in a show of innocence, but Moira quickly stepped in before Oliver could do anything he might regret.

“He didn't have to say anything, Oliver,” she said, folding her hands delicately in her lap. “I already knew.”

That caught Oliver by surprise and it took him a moment before it finally clicked. “Dad,” he said, shaking his head. “I asked him not to tell you.”

The corners of Moira's lips turned up, just slightly, as if she were recalling an amusing memory. Considering the topic, Oliver figured she probably was. He closed his eyes, flashes of the same memory involuntarily cropping up despite years of repression.

Tommy laughing as Oliver backed his Jeep into his dad’s Maserati. Desperately trying to contain his own laughter when he saw his father’s face red with anger, but the drugs he’d been on making it a losing battle.

“That’s it!” his father had shouted, right there in the driveway, as his mother begged for him to calm down. But he went on, despite her protests, “You're done. You won’t get another dime from me until you pay to fix this damage.”

He remembered sitting in Tommy’s pool house, trying to come up with a way to pay for the damage he’d caused. He remembered Tommy’s joking response of, “We could always donate sperm.” He remembered thinking it was a good enough idea that they’d gone down to a sperm bank that weekend and signed a bunch of paperwork. He remembered the gauntlet of tests they’d run, poking and prodding and asking humiliating questions until he was certain getting a minimum wage job at Big Belly Burger would have been the better option.

He remembered finding out that, while he was under contract with the sperm bank, he couldn’t have sex or drink or basically do anything fun. He’d had to go to his dad to help him out of the contract. They’d had him—literally—by the balls, and his dad’s army of lawyers was the only way out.

It was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life, and that was saying a lot. He’d done some pretty dumb things in his life. He was still doing dumb things...

“He was proud of your… resourcefulness, we’ll call it,” Moira said, that tiny, amused smile still on her face.

Oliver groaned and shook his head in annoyance. “Well, I'm glad that it was so amusing for the two of you, but what does that have to do with Emma? It was ten years ago.”

“I did some research,” she said, straightening her spine in that way that meant she wasn’t backing down. “Sperm can still be viable even after being frozen for that long.”

“That's… not the point,” he said, feeling an embarrassed heat creeping up his neck.

Yes, he could admit that he hadn’t paid much attention to the details when he’d donated the sperm. He’d basically grabbed the cup out of the woman’s hand and slammed the door behind him. It had been too embarrassing to talk about with a girl who was only slightly older than he was.

“Sweetheart,” Moira said, reaching for his hand. “I know you're embarrassed, but I think it’s time you started to consider the possibility…”

She trailed off, but her implication was clear. He had donated sperm and Felicity had gone to a sperm bank... Oliver swallowed down the argument on the tip of his tongue. He’d had this fight with her countless times, but… now—he picked up the photo of Thea—he couldn’t help but wonder himself.

“You know,” Tommy said, and Oliver turned to see his friend moving for the door. “I’m gonna”—he pointed over his shoulder as he moved backwards toward the foyer—“go see if Thea wants to go to the game with us. She’ll probably say no, but... Are we still on for the game tonight?”

Oliver nodded, watching helplessly as his friend hightailed it out of the room. He couldn't blame Tommy for not wanting to be around for this conversation. Oliver wasn't a huge fan of talking about his sperm with his mother either. But, apparently, it was a conversation that could no longer be put off.

“Is that why you kept pushing me about being Emma’s father?” he asked, taking a seat beside her on the sofa. “Because Dad told you I donated sperm once?”

“No. Not at first, at least.” She shrugged. “I figured it was more likely you and Felicity had had a… tryst... and were covering up to avoid a scandal.”

“Mom—” he growled, but she waved him off.

“I know, I know. I ruled that out after I'd gotten to know Felicity a little better,” she said, then shrugged. “But, then I realized that you could still be Emma’s father even if the artificial insemination story was true.”

“I’m not…” he started, but couldn’t bring himself to finish. Instead he lifted the photo and then pulled out his phone, tapping and swiping until he found a photo of Emma he’d taken during lunch last week. She was sitting on the couch in his office, her wild curls held back from her face by hair clip with a monkey on it.

Seeing them side by side like that… he couldn’t deny that there was a strong resemblance. One that was starting to make him feel a little sick. Sure, he'd briefly considered a what if scenario when Felicity had first told him she'd been artificially inseminated, but he honestly hadn't given it much more thought. He’d been too busy trying not to fantasize about Emma being his to ever really consider that she… might be.

But could she be? He’d only donated once, and it had been years. Even if the clinic had offered up his sperm, what were the chances that it would still be available nearly ten years later?

“Mom, I can’t be her father,” he reiterated, whether for her sake or his own he wasn’t sure. “It’s just not possible.”

Moira sighed, but nodded abjectly and stood.

“I hope you enjoy your evening with Tommy, Oliver.” She squeezed his shoulder gently before moving towards the door. “But just one more thing, if I may?” she said, turning to give him a hard look. The kind of look he remembered from childhood. A look that meant _I’m right and you’re wrong and you'd better get used to it_. “You already are that girl’s father, sweetheart. It just remains to be seen if it’s biological or not.”

With that she swept from the room, leaving Oliver to the existential crisis she’d purposefully unleashed within him.

He pulled up his camera app, quickly snapping a picture of the photo of Thea. He didn’t know why, except that it would be easier to torture himself with it if it was on his phone. He suppressed the urge to edit the photos so he could view them side by side.

It was just… No. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way Felicity somehow picked his sperm, out of hundreds—maybe thousands!—of samples. The feeling clawing at his insides, the desperate want threatening to tear him apart, wasn’t helping his ability to think rationally.

By the time Oliver stood from the couch he felt like his world was spinning upside down. One moment he wanted it to be true, the next he wanted to laugh it off as a joke. He wanted to talk to Felicity, but had no idea what he would say to her. Even if he did, she was probably busy with her boyfriend, anyway.

That thought certainly didn’t help the sick feeling in Oliver’s stomach.

“So, Thea doesn’t want to go. Something about not being cool enough to hang out with me,” Tommy said, making his way back into the room a moment later. The awkward strain in his voice was obvious despite clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Looks like it’s just you and me, buddy. You ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh… I need to change. I’ll just be a minute.”

But the last thing Oliver could think about right now was a basketball game.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I rewrote the end of this chapter again today, which makes 4 times in 2 days, but I kinda don't hate it anymore so I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a win. Anyway, hopefully you guys enjoy it!

“What do you feel like watching?”

Felicity grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer, glancing over her shoulder to see Billy sitting on the couch, clicking through options on Netflix.

It was still a novelty to have him here, at her house. She’d spent plenty of time with him on dates, or at his place if she could find a sitter, but rarely here. He’d been nothing but kind to her since they’d first met, but she’d still been cautious of letting him around Emma. At first, it was because he could’ve been a psycho for all she knew, but then, once she’d gotten to know him, it became more about not wanting to involve her daughter until she knew whether or not the relationship would last. She didn’t want Emma to get attached to someone who would just disappear from her life one day. But now that they’d been dating a few months, Felicity felt comfortable enough to have him over, even to have him watch Emma for short periods, like today at work.

It had only been for an hour, and in Felicity’s office while she attended a meeting, but still. A rush of affection had spread through her when she’d gotten back to find them laughing at Emma’s favorite show on the computer. Billy had glanced up at her with a warm smile and… It was the first time she’d been able to picture him really being a part of their lives.

She knew she’d been holding back with him. She blamed it on Emma, she blamed it on her feelings for Oliver. But, today, for the first time in a long time, she finally felt like she was moving forward in her life, the same way she’d felt when she’d decided to have Emma.

“You pick,” she told him, and he grinned before turning back to the television.

Felicity scooped them both some ice cream and grabbed some spoons. She walked back into the living room to see he’d picked Clueless. She was almost disappointed that he’d chosen it. It was one of her favorites, but she was fully aware that they wouldn’t actually get around to watching it tonight.

They’d spent most of the evening playing with Emma and decorating the apartment for Hanukkah. Blue and white string lights now decorated her front door, courtesy of Billy. She always got frustrated and gave up trying to string holiday lights. Usually she’d call Oliver to complain and then he’d—

Shaking off thoughts of Oliver, Felicity sat down beside Billy on the couch and handed him a bowl. She snuggled in beside him as the movie began and by the time Cher had failed her driver’s test, their ice cream was already melting on the coffee table.

Billy laid her back on the couch, running his hand down her side and she giggled, guiding his mouth to hers. Mmm, he was a good kisser. Or maybe Felicity just hadn’t kissed anyone in so long that he seemed like a good kisser. Either way, kissing was good. She wanted to do all the kissing with him all the time.

A sudden thud on the front door had Billy pulling away and Felicity chased after his lips, but he sat up, eying the door suspiciously. She groaned, lying back against the cushions.

“It’s probably Mrs. Kirkman from next door looking for her cat again,” she said, reaching to pull him back to her. “Just ignore her and she’ll go away.”

“It’s snowing pretty bad,” Billy said. “You think her cat would actually run away in this?”

“Do you really want to talk about cats right now?” she teased, trying to pull him back to her.

Billy smiled, leaning down to capture her lips again, but it was too late. Another series of knocks came, louder than before, and Emma began to cry from the other room.

“Ugh, of course.” Felicity rolled her eyes and slid out from underneath him. “Could you…?” she asked, gesturing to the door.

Billy nodded, and Felicity gave him a quick kiss before heading off to get Emma. She was already standing up in her crib, face pinched and red from being woken so suddenly. Emma usually slept okay, but when she did wake up she could be a menace. Felicity just hoped she could get her back to sleep quickly.

“Oh, sweetie. C’mere,” she said, bending to pick the girl up. She bounced her on her hip a few times, gently rocking her and stroking her hair as her cries settled down. “Do you want me to read you a story so you can go back to sleep?”

“No!” Emma cried, trying to push herself out of Felicity’s arms.

Menace it was then.

“Emma,” Felicity warned, but she was cut off by the sound of a raised voice coming from the living room. A very familiar voice.

“Felicity!”

Felicity’s heart practically stopped at the sound of Oliver yelling her name like that. Like something was wrong. Emma stiffened at the sound, too, but Felicity placed the toddler on the play mat on the ground, handing her her stuffed M&M to distract her.

“Stay here, Em,” she said. “Mommy will be back in a few minutes.”

She moved out into the hallway, trying to hear what was happening. Oliver was still saying something, though she couldn’t tell what, just that he seemed agitated.

“I’m not sure who you are, but I think you should leave,” Billy said, as she reached the living room.

“Oliver?” she asked, walking up next to Billy in the doorway.

Oliver was standing outside under the overhang, escaping the worst of the snow, but more than a few flakes were stuck to his hair and coat. The holiday lights cast a blue glow over his features. Even so, she could tell his eyes were glassy, like he’d been drinking, and she remembered that he’d mentioned something about a basketball game when she’d seen him earlier today.

“Felicity,” he said, slurring ever so slightly. Something like relief crossed his sullen face when he saw her, and she paused as he smiled dopily at her. A smile like that normally would have wreaked havoc on her heart, but she was too confused to be charmed by him right now.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, incredulously. She didn’t need him to answer, she could smell the beer on his breath from three feet away. Her gaze flew over his shoulder, out to the street. She didn’t think Oliver would ever drive drunk, but it was a relief to see he’d taken one of his family’s chauffeurs with him tonight. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t, especially with it still snowing like this.

He didn’t answer, his gaze refocusing on Billy. The glare he was giving the other man was the definition of _if looks could kill_ , and Felicity took pity—on which one of them she wasn’t sure—and said, “Billy, can you go check on Emma for me?”

“Are you sure?” he asked, shooting Oliver a skeptical look.

Oliver glared harder at that, but Felicity stepped forward into the cold, touching her hand to his chest to get his attention, before turning back to Billy.

“I’m sure. Go on.”

Billy nodded, reaching out to give her arm a comforting squeeze before he left. His touch left her realizing just how cold it was outside. Snow swirled just outside the overhang, glowing blue in the Hanukkah lights.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Oliver growled, watching Billy disappear back into the apartment.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she asked, and her previous concern came rushing back. “Did something happen?”

“I don’t like him here,” he grumbled, and she dropped her hands, taking a step back into the warmth of her apartment.

“Too bad it’s not any of your business then.” She ignored the irritating little twinge of… something... in her chest at Oliver’s annoyance over her boyfriend. “Now, tell me why you’re here?”

“My mom, she...” He took a deep breath, his glassy eyes meeting hers.

“Oh my god.” All annoyance over Oliver’s jealousy—and whatever twisted pleasure she got out of it—disappeared in an instant and she stepped closer, grabbing his arm. “What happened?”

Moira had never really warmed up to her, but Felicity knew how close she and Oliver were. If something had happened to her…

“She showed me a picture.”

“What?” It took her a moment to understand what he’d just said, but once she did she smacked his arm. Hard. “Oliver, what the hell? I thought… Oh my god.” She sighed in relief, then glared up at him. “I can’t believe you.”

Something in her voice must have set him off because he stood straighter, glaring right back. “What? Did I interrupt your date?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes, actually. You did.”

“So you just bring your dates here?” Oliver glowered. “With Emma?”

Felicity stepped back abruptly, the blood rushing from her face. She knew he was drunk, knew he was acting a little jealous, but she’d never in a million years thought he’d imply something like that with her. That she’d bring a stranger home to her daughter. That she’d put her own needs before her daughter’s safety that way. She wanted to cry, she wanted to slap him.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Oliver Queen?”

Oliver didn't seem moved by her anger. Instead, he doubled down on his own. “You don’t even know this guy, Felicity!”

“I’ve been dating him for three months! That’s long enough to know that he’s a good man. A man that I trust. This wasn’t something I went into lightly, I—“ She paused, shaking her head. “No, you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. You are not her father.”

“You sure about that?” He said it snidely, under his breath, but she heard it loud and clear.

“What the hell does that mean?” she asked, exasperated by this conversation. Who the hell did he think he was? Coming to her apartment and telling her who was allowed to be in Emma’s life. Yes, Oliver was the closest thing Emma had ever had to a father, but she was _her_ daughter. Not his. _She_ was the one who made those calls. She opened her mouth to say just that, but Oliver was already talking again, changing topics so suddenly it was enough to give her whiplash.

“Tommy and me… we donated sperm.”

Felicity blinked, her anger fading to confusion. “What? Why would you do that? I thought you were at a basketball game?”

“No, not tonight.” Oliver shook his head. “When we were kids. We were high and my dad said I had to pay for the car.”

She raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop. “What car? Oliver, you’re not making any sense and I have better things to do than whatever… this is,” she said, waving a hand in his direction. “Go home and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And just FYI, you’d better have a really great apology for acting like this.”

She started to close the door, but he shot a hand out, stopping her.

“Felicity, please!” he begged, and she looked up into misty blue eyes she was helpless to ignore. “Please, this is important. It’s… it’s really important.”

She sighed, but pulled the door open again, crossing her arms in front of her chest. God, it was freezing out, but she wasn’t about to invite him in. Not when he was acting like this. The last thing she needed was Oliver getting into a fight with Billy right now. So, instead, she stood in her doorway, hoping he’d get to the point quickly so she could go back inside.

He blinked a few times, like he was working out what to say. She was just about to tell him to call her when he figured out what was so important he had to show up on her doorstep drunk, when he said, “Tommy and I… we hit my dad’s car with my Jeep and he wanted us to pay for it.”

“Okay.”

“So we donated sperm.”

“Okay…?” But even as she said it her brain began putting Oliver’s unconnected pieces together. And she could already tell she didn’t like where he was going.

“I donated sperm, and you…” He gestured to her, as if she needed clarification. “You used that sperm to make… to make Emma.”

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, watching his bloodshot eyes blink slowly at her as he braced himself against the wall. He was drunk, but she wasn’t deluded enough to think alcohol was to blame for whatever this was.

“You think you’re Emma’s biological father,” she said, and voicing it out loud just made the idea sound that much more insane. It was insane. He was insane.

“My mom showed me this picture…” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and thrusting it at her.

She took it, focusing on thumbing in his passcode and not on the rising wave of panic making it hard to concentrate. The lock screen gave way to his photo album; two photos, cropped side by side, already on the screen. Like he’d been looking at them before he came here. One was a photo of Emma that Oliver had sent her about a week ago. The other… It was clearly older, a photo of a photo, but it was clear enough for Felicity to realize what he was showing her.

“Is that… Is that Thea?” she asked quietly, using her thumb and forefinger to zoom in. A little girl with wild brown curls stood in front of a fireplace, grinning in that way that only toddlers could. The girl in the photo looked… an awful lot like her daughter did. Her eyes flickered between the pictures for a moment, picking out similarities. The nose. The smile. The way their two front teeth were both just the tiniest bit off center.

“You see it, right? The resemblance? My mom told me, but I didn’t believe her until I saw it for myself.”

Felicity glanced up to meet Oliver’s gaze. All of his anger seemed to have fizzled away, his eyes bright and earnest in the blue glow of the lights.

“Felicity,” he said, drawing out her name and reaching for her hand. “I donated sperm.”

Something about the calm way he said it, as if it were meant to be soothing, set her off, because it wasn’t soothing. It made her want to crawl out of her skin.

“So that makes her yours? So did Tommy!” She took a quick step back, avoiding his touch. “So did hundreds of other people. Just because you donated sperm doesn’t make Emma your daughter!”

“You saw the picture. She looks just like Thea,” he argued.

Felicity shook her head, done with this conversation. “Look, I know you love her, Oliver. I know you want what’s best for her. But right now I think what’s best is for you to go home and sleep this off.”

Once he sobered up he’d apologize for acting this way, and she’d forgive him. She knew she would, because he’d never done anything like this before. She just needed him to go so she could just… think. What he was telling her, it was crazy and she couldn’t process it. Maybe she’d ask Billy to leave for the night, too. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for a romantic date night anymore. But Oliver didn’t look like he was ready to leave yet.

His gaze slipped past her, his eyes narrowing as they settled on something in the living room. “Oh, he gets to stay, but I have to leave?”

Felicity didn’t need to turn to know Billy was standing behind her. She might have appreciated the support, but then she heard her daughter call out from his arms.

“Olva!” Emma exclaimed, and Felicity spun to see her reaching out with her chubby little arms, a wide smile on her face. “Olva!”

“Hey, baby,” Oliver cooed, his voice watery as he took a step forward and reached for Emma.

“Not now, Emma,” Felicity bit out, pushing Oliver’s hands away, and moving between them. She couldn’t have him with Emma. Not now. Not while he was drunk and being ridiculous. It would only make everything worse. “Oliver’s gotta go.”

“No!” Emma cried, her face instantly going bright red. “I want Olva!”

“Felicity, don’t do this.” His voice was desperate, but she didn’t turn back to look at him.

“It’s time to go back to bed, sweetheart. You’ll see Oliver later,” she said, stroking Emma’s hair. “Billy, please take her.”

Billy’s eyes danced between her and Oliver. “Maybe you should—“

“Take her inside!” Felicity snapped. His eyes went wide, but he relented, walking away with her daughter reaching out over his shoulder, crying for Oliver.

“You need to go,” she said to Oliver without turning back. She couldn’t. She was angry and confused and she couldn’t think with Emma crying like that. Goddamn him! Why the hell was he doing this to her? She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to push her tears back. She needed to hold on to her anger, just a little longer. Just long enough to make him go, then she could cry as much as she wanted.

When she finally turned to see him, his eyes were glued to the hallway Billy had just taken Emma down. She could still hear her cries, ugly sobs for her Olva. A tear leaked down Felicity’s cheek, but the sounds of her daughter crying like that filled her with a rage she’d never experienced before.

“ _Leave_.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, one hand reaching out toward her, almost as if by its own accord, but she pulled away before he could touch her.

“Go,” she growled through gritted teeth. She knew her eyes were narrowed dangerously, knew she was still crying despite that. “Go. _Now_.”

Oliver’s lip quivered and he nodded, a slight jerking movement.

The snow creaked under his boots as he made his way back to the town car, pausing just once as he reached for the handle. He didn’t turn around, but she did, closing the door and slumping against it. She tilted her head back, squeezing her eyes shut as she listened to Emma cry. She needed to hold onto that rage. She couldn’t let herself think about what Oliver had told her. It was stupid. Ridiculous. He was drunk and jealous and—

“Hey,” Billy said, his soft voice breaking into her spiraling thoughts. She didn’t look at him. “Are you okay?”

Her lip trembled. Her hands shook. She felt like she’d just been ripped inside out. She didn’t answer him.

Felicity wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, leaning against the door, but by the time she stood up Emma’s cries had quieted and Billy was nowhere to be seen. She found him sitting on the edge of her bed, shoes on and jacket folded neatly beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but didn’t know what else to say. How do you apologize to your boyfriend for the guy you’ve been in love with for years drunkenly showing up on your front porch and  claiming to be the father of your child? She was pretty sure not even google could help her with that one.

“Don’t worry about it,” Billy said, shaking his head, though she knew she should worry. They’d only been dating a short time and she’d practically ripped his head off tonight, yet… she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. There was too much else going on in her head right now to worry about what he thought of her. “I figured that you might need some time alone after” —he gestured towards the door— “whatever that was.”

Felicity nodded, taking a seat beside him. “Thank you.”

Billy reached over to squeeze her hand gently before picking up his coat. “Call me if you want to talk.”

She nodded again, but knew she wouldn’t be calling. She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, though she was sure that wouldn’t be happening either.

###

The ding of the elevator startled Oliver out of his thoughts. He wasn’t the only person waiting for the executive elevator, but he barely took notice of the others as they all shuffled inside, pressing buttons for their respective floors.

After a night spent ruminating in his own guilt and embarrassment, he’d thought he’d be able to at least make it up to his office before it set in again. He hadn’t even made it out of the lobby.

“Executive floor, sir?” someone asked and Oliver simply nodded, watching as they pressed the button for the fiftieth floor.

He’d sent Felicity a text to apologize for acting the way he had last night. Just a simple “I’m sorry,” but she hadn’t responded back. Not that he blamed her.

He’d been tied up in knots after his mother showed him that photo of Thea. He’d tried to enjoy the basketball game with Tommy, he really had, which was why he’d ended up drinking so much, but it had been no use. He’d spent so much time staring at the pictures on his phone that Tommy had finally had enough and called to have a car sent to pick him up early. Of course, Oliver managed to talk the driver into taking him to Felicity’s, and that led to him screwing everything up. Again.

It was almost like he couldn’t help himself. Maybe John was right about his self destructive tendencies.

The elevator dinged as the car came to a stop on the fifteenth floor and a man that he vaguely recognized from department meetings shuffled out. It stopped again on the twentieth. Oliver watched as the numbers tick up, towards the thirtieth floor. Applied Sciences. They had a lab on the thirty-first floor, but it was early. Felicity was likely still in her office, sipping her morning coffee and responding to emails.

His hand shot out of its own accord, pressing the button for the thirtieth floor. No one paid any mind to his sudden change of plans. He was the CEO, after all. He always had business somewhere in the building. It just so happened that this particular order of business was much more personal in nature, and just might lose him his best friend. Though he’d probably already lost her after last night, so what could it hurt to attempt an apology in person?

As the doors opened and he stepped out into the hallway, a level of dread he’d never felt before settled in his chest. But he had no choice, the urge to see her—to do something—was too strong. He let that urge lead him down the familiar path to Felicity’s office, all the while feeling like he might actually jump out of his own skin.

Her door was open and Oliver stepped into the room to see Felicity focused on her computer. A steaming mug of coffee sat beside her, the one he’d gotten at the mall for her birthday. It had Emma’s handprint stamped on the side of it in red paint. Felicity had smiled so brightly when he’d given it to her… He remembered thinking that he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his whole life.

Oliver took a moment to just watch her as she typed away on her keyboard, to miss her even though she was right in front of him. He’d screwed everything up once and now he had no choice but to silently miss her from the sidelines of her life. He couldn’t lose her completely though. He wouldn’t. A resolve settled over him and he lifted his hand to rap on the open door. Felicity finished typing, then glanced over, freezing when she spotted him in the doorway.

“Hey,” was all he managed to say.

Her wide eyes narrowed as he stepped inside the office, giving him the distinct impression that she didn’t want to see him. “I don’t want to talk to you, Oliver. I’m working.”

“I know,” he said. “I just needed to say a few things.”

She rolled her eyes and looked back at her monitor. “Didn’t you say enough last night?”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I handled things last night.” He took a deep breath. “I had no right to say the things I said about you and Billy. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.”

She didn’t immediately meet his gaze, but when she did she seemed to soften just a touch, leaning forward to cross her arms on the desk. “You were drunk.”

“It’s not an excuse,” he said with a shake of his head. “Even drunk I could tell I’d hurt you and I’m sorry. I had no right do that. I never want to do that.”

Felicity’s lips twitched and she relaxed a little more. “Apology accepted.”

Oliver sucked in his bottom lip. He knew he should just be happy that she’d accepted his apology and let it go for now, but that urge was back and, try as he might, he couldn’t swallow it down. “The rest of what I said, though…”

Felicity stiffened again, her face shuttering as she sat back in her chair. “Oliver…”

“No, just listen, okay. I know it seems crazy, but I’ve been thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I know I didn’t approach you the right way last night.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head and murmuring to himself, “I can’t seem to ever do anything right when it comes to you.” He glanced back at her. “I really think I might be right about this, though.”

Felicity’s shoulders lifted and then fell, as if she were taking a fortifying breath. “It doesn’t just seem crazy, Oliver,” she said after a moment. “It is crazy. Even if you did donate sperm that doesn’t mean the sperm would still be available. And it doesn’t mean that out of hundreds of candidates I would have somehow chosen yours. It’s just a little too...” —she shrugged, searching for the right word— “serendipitous... to be possible.”

Oliver moved closer, falling into one of the chairs in front of her desk. “I know, but it _is_ possible.”

She watched him for a moment, and he thought she might have been taking him seriously, but then she shrugged helplessly, her face full of pity. “Even if it was, that doesn’t change anything,“ she said. “I went the donor route for a reason.”

“I know that,” Oliver said, the same desperation he’d felt last night taking hold in the pit of his stomach. “I know being Emma’s father wouldn’t give me any right to her, but… Don’t you want to know for sure?”

If there was one thing he knew about Felicity Smoak it was that she hated mysteries. She never failed to jump at the chance to solve one. So when she just shook her head in response, Oliver wasn’t immediately sure what else to do.

“Felicity, please,” he said, and started to fumble for his phone, to show her the pictures he’d cropped side by side, anything to get her on board with this idea. “I know it’s won’t change anything, but if we get a paternity test—”

“Why is this so important to you?” She asked it so quietly that it stopped him in his tracks.

“What?”

“Being her biological father,” she said. “Why is it so important to you?”

There were noises coming from the hall. The normal, everyday sounds of business happening. Phones ringing, keyboards clicking, but Oliver could have sworn that in that instant everything ceased to exist except for the two of them. She watched him, silently waiting for his reply.

“Because…” He shrugged, unsure himself.

Felicity shook her head again, refusing to accept a half assed answer from him. “If you donated sperm, if you thought it was possible that you were her father, why didn’t you ever mention it?” she asked. “Why are you suddenly bringing it up now?”

“My mom just showed me that picture of Thea last night,” he answered weakly. “It got in my head, I guess.”

“Okay,” she said with a little nod. “But, Oliver, if this is because you’re afraid of Billy replacing you in Emma’s life, it’s not going to happen. Even if things worked out between me and him, no one could ever replace you. You are already the most important man in her life. You see her everyday. You said it yourself, even if you were her father nothing would change, so why?” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “Why are you so afraid of losing her?”

Oliver swallowed down the answer trying to claw its way out of his throat. That it wasn’t Emma he was afraid of losing. He knew being Emma’s father wouldn’t change anything. Hell, even if he and Felicity had had Emma the usual way, he’d probably still have the same amount of time with her that he did now. He hadn’t lost Emma at all. It was Felicity he’d lost. Felicity he’d… let go.

“I mean, that’s what this is about, right?” she asked, shifting slightly in her chair. “You being afraid of losing… _Emma_?”

There was something in her voice, something in the way she bit her lip while waiting for his answer, that made him think she might be hoping he _wasn’t_ talking about Emma, or not just Emma, anyway. His eyes darted down to her lips for a split second and he opened his mouth to say something, probably the wrong thing, when a knock on the door interrupted him.

“There you are. I should’ve guessed you’d be down here.”

Oliver didn’t turn to see John Diggle entering the office, but Felicity did. She jumped a little, turning to John with a flustered, “Hi. Hey. Hi.” She looked back at Oliver, her cheeks painted a light pink to match her lips.

“Am I interrupting something?” John asked, and Oliver finally pulled his eyes away from her long enough to look over at his friend. He was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing look on his face.

“No,” Oliver said after a moment. He got to his feet and looked back at Felicity. “I really am sorry about how I acted last night.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled teasingly and it made his heart kick up a notch. “As long as it never happens again.”

“Never.” He grinned back. “But maybe… maybe we could talk about this some other time? The right way?”

Felicity’s smile wavered. “Maybe,” she said, but to his ears it sounded a lot more like a no.

He swallowed down that thought and hooked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards the door. “I’ll get outta your hair so you can get back to work.”

John gave him a questioning look as he moved towards the door, but Oliver ignored it, concentrating instead on fighting the urge to look back at Felicity one last time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has never wanted to do what I want it to do, and it just seems to grow in length every time I sit down to write it. I promise though, we are very close to the end now and the next chapter shouldn't take as long to write. Anyway, hope you enjoy this update!

Smoke. That was the first thing Felicity noticed when she woke up.

Her eyes opened, panic coursing through her veins. Was it a fire in the building? Was Emma okay? It took another moment, but she eventually realized that her bedroom wasn’t filled with smoke. The fire alarm wasn’t even going off. Yet.

That’s when she realized where the smell of smoke was coming from. Her mother.

Walking the short distance from her bedroom to the kitchen, she found Donna Smoak, just as expected. Her perpetually perky mother stood in front of the stove, jumping up towards the smoke detector and batting around a bright red oven mitt in an effort to disperse the smoke before—

A screech cut through the air and Felicity ran to the window, cracking it open despite the freezing temperatures outside.

“I’m sorry, hun,” Donna said, shouting over the blaring to the smoke alarm. “I really thought I got the recipe right this time. I even watched a video on that YouTube.”

Felicity turned to see her tablet propped up on the kitchen counter, paused on a woman lifting perfectly fried sufganiyot out of a pot. Her mother’s attempt at the treat was more brown than golden and the oil was sending up smoke plumes directly towards the smoke detector.

This wasn’t the first time Felicity had woken up to her mother practically burning down the kitchen, nor did she think it would be her last. Not that she had much room to judge. Scrambled eggs and pasta was pretty much her limit unless she wanted the fire department knocking down her door.

“Momma!”

Both Smoak women turned to see Emma running at full momentum down the hallway and Felicity bent to catch her, bouncing her up onto her hip.

“Hey, baby.”

“It’s loud,” Emma said, covering her ears.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Donna reached over to give Emma a kiss on the cheek. “Grandma just wanted to make you the best sufganiyot you’ve ever tasted.”

“She’s never had sufganiyot, Mom.” Using her thumb, Felicity wiped a pink splotch of lipstick off her daughter’s cheek. Only her mother would be in full makeup at seven o’clock in the morning. “Besides, as long as it’s sweet she’ll think it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. She’s a little sugar monster.”

Felicity tickled her sides and Emma giggled, scrunching her little nose up. Even that small act caused Felicity’s stomach to flip. Did Thea’s nose scrunch like that when she laughed? She was almost certain it did. Did Oliver’s?

“I know, I know,” Donna was saying, waving her hands around. It took Felicity a second to remember what they’d been talking about. “I just wanted to make her first real Hanukkah memorable. All she’s been talking about since I got here is how Santa is coming next week.”

“Santa!” Emma cried, flapping her arms happily. “Santa!”

Donna made a face at that and Felicity couldn’t help but laugh. Oliver and Thea had told Emma all about Santa a few weeks ago. She’d never seen her daughter’s face light up as brightly as it had when Thea told her that a chubby old man was going to leave her a bunch of presents in exchange for cookies.

Donna sighed, then went back to fanning the smoke coming off the burnt doughnuts. “I know you’re not very religious, but she should at least know something about our traditions. I mean, it would be one thing if you were dating Oliver…”

“Mom.” Her voice was harder than she’d meant it to be, but she couldn’t talk to her about this. Not now. Probably not ever. “Stop. You know I’m dating Billy.”

“Oh, right. The cop I still haven’t met.” She glanced over with an unimpressed look. “I can’t believe you didn’t invite him over tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just not ready to have him meet my crazy mother yet.” Felicity shrugged and placed Emma on the floor, where she proceeded to wander off into the living room to watch tv.

“One day Emma is going to treat you this way,” Donna said, pointing a finger in her direction. “Then you won’t think it’s so funny.”

“It’s just… it’s new,” she said with a sigh. “And I don’t even know if it’s going to last, so…”

The truth was she’d barely spoken to Billy in the last couple days. She’d canceled a date they had planned, claiming she couldn’t find a babysitter, and then her mother had flown in, which she had to admit was a really convenient excuse to get some space. It was all just too much right now, everything with Oliver and her fledgling relationship with Billy… Something had to give and, unfortunately, he was the easiest thing to set aside for the moment.

“But you seemed to like him last time we spoke on the phone,” Donna said cautiously.

“I do like him, it’s just… it’s complicated right now. With Emma and...”

She cut herself off, but it was too late. Donna stopped fanning and turned to give her an appraising look. It took every ounce of Felicity’s composure to keep a lid on her expression. Her mom had always had a way of seeing more than she wanted her to. All she needed was for her to find out about Oliver’s baby daddy theory and she’d never hear the end of it.

“I have to get ready for work.” Felicity turned back for her bedroom before she accidentally said more than she meant to.

She was just opening her door when her mother called out from the kitchen. “Don’t think we won’t be circling back to this conversation, Felicity.”

“Of course we will,” Felicity mumbled under her breath as she closed the door to get ready.

###

“Okay, what the hell is going on?”

Felicity startled at the familiar voice, the red pen she’d been chewing on falling from her lips and landing on the desk with a faint click. In all honesty, she shouldn’t have been so surprised he’d shown up at her office. She’d known this conversation was coming, ever since Oliver had shown up at her house and thrown her life into turmoil.

Well, turmoil might be being a _bit_ dramatic.

“Felicity?”

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself, then turned to see John Diggle standing in the doorway to her office, massive arms crossed impatiently over his massive chest.

“What’s going on with what?” she asked innocently, but the look on his face said he wasn’t having it.

“You and Oliver.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he sighed and moved to sit in the chair across from her desk. “You two have been off for months, but this is different. You’re both miserable, so what happened?”

“I’m not miserable.” She wasn’t. Miserable was another one of those dramatic words that didn’t really describe what she was feeling. She was more… distressed.

John cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. Leaning forward to meet her eye, he said, “Then why do you look like you haven’t slept in days?”

“Hey!” she argued, albeit weakly. He shot her an apologetic look, but didn’t seem like he was going to let the subject go that easily. “My mom is visiting,” she said as way of explanation, brushing off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“I thought you guys had been getting along?” John asked, leaning back in his chair.

“We were. We _are_. It’s just…” She reached out, fidgeting with the pen now sitting beside her keyboard. “She’s so interested in my love life.”

It was the wrong thing to say judging by the look John gave her. His lips twitched just the slightest amount as he said, none too casually, “I thought your love life was going alright.”

“It is!” At his hitched eyebrows, Felicity gave in with a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Oliver complicated or just regular complicated?” he asked knowingly.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” She knew he wouldn’t be deflected for long, but she might as well try. “Don’t you have a body to guard or something?”

“Oliver’s in a board meeting. I don’t think any of the investors are going to kill the CEO. Not with that many witnesses, at least.” He shot her a smile, but it faded quickly. “He looks like he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, either.”

Felicity tried to ignore that piece of information, but the way her stomach flipped made it difficult. She’d been trying not to consider how Oliver was dealing with things. She’d been busy enough trying to figure out how she was going to deal with it.

“What happened between you two?” he asked. “I might be his bodyguard, but you know I’ll kick his ass if I have to, right?”

She couldn’t help the small smile that escaped. John was a really good friend. Maybe… As much as she wanted to push off this conversation, to deflect John’s concern until he gave up, she also kind of wanted to talk about it. She hadn’t talked about it with anyone—not Billy, not her mom—but it had been killing her for the past three days. It was a secret too big to keep all to herself without going crazy. Finally, she pulled in a deep breath and said, “Oliver thinks Emma’s his daughter.”

John’s head snapped back in shock. Whatever he’d been expecting, it clearly hadn’t been that. “What? Why would he think that?”

“Because…” She bit her lip, meeting his wide brown eyes. “There may be a chance that she’s his daughter.”

And there it was. The truth she’d been hiding from ever since she found out that Oliver had donated sperm. There was, however slight, a possibility that Emma was Oliver’s daughter. The product of his DNA and her DNA melding together to create a perfect little human being. Just the thought of it bowled her over with an ever changing array of confusing emotions.

“I…” She looked up to see John leaning back into his chair, looking as if his whole world had just been flipped upside down. She knew that feeling intimately. “How...? You said you were artificially inseminated.”

“I was, but there were just so many donors to choose from! Hundreds. I couldn’t decide! So I…” She took a deep breath, almost feeling relieved at finally being able to say the words out loud, and the explanation escaped her in a mad rush. “I went with the one that reminded me of Oliver. But I didn’t know he’d actually donated sperm! How could I have possibly known that!? Who even does that?”

It had been a childish decision, picking a donor that reminded her of Oliver, but she’d had a crush on him for so long, so she’d figured why not? No one would ever know, and it wasn’t like the donor she’d selected wasn’t a good choice. He was healthy, college educated, came from a good family.

Possibly from a _really_ good family, as it turned out.

“Wait, slow down,” John said, holding a hand out in front of him. “Oliver donated sperm?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Apparently.”

“And you…” He paused and, even though she couldn’t see the blush on his skin, his uncomfortable expression told her it was definitely there. “That was the...?”

“Maybe.“ She pressed her eyes closed tightly, the stress of it all starting to give her a headache. “I don’t know. It was all done anonymously.”

The sperm bank hadn’t even provided pictures. Just a brief description and medical records. She remembered the profile she’d selected exactly. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. College student, majoring in business at Harvard. The thing was, Oliver graduated from Starling University, not Harvard. She knew he’d dropped out of four colleges before completing his major at SU, but she’d never bothered to ask which ones. She’d never had a reason. Until the other day, at least.

When Oliver first showed up at her door she’d refused to even consider the possibility that he might have been the donor, but after he’d apologized the next day and her anger had started to fade, it had been harder to keep her curiosity at bay. It ate at her until finally she’d broken down and hacked his transcripts, figuring it was the easiest way to put this whole crazy mess behind her. It had taken her less than two minutes to discover that Harvard had indeed been school number two out of the five Oliver had attended. After that it was impossible for her to stop. She’d immediately pulled up the sperm bank’s records, searching for any kind of answer she could find.

It was easy enough to find her information and the number of the sample she’d selected, but it wasn’t connected to any of the donor records in their system. After a little digging she’d realized that was because they’d only started keeping digital records five years ago. Which meant the answer to her question was impossible to find on the internet. That wasn’t something that usually happened to her, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.

John watched her for an uncomfortable moment, one in which Felicity felt more vulnerable than she ever had before. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe she should have kept it to herself the way she did when Billy asked if she wanted to talk, or the way she’d done earlier when her mother had tried to bring it up. Saying it out loud somehow made it seem more real. It made her stomach churn. She wanted to snatch the words out of the air and stuff them back into the box she’d been keeping them in ever since she found out.

“That’s…” John sat up straight, finally finished digesting everything she’d thrown at him. “That’s a lot. How long have you known?”

“Oliver told me the other day. Moira put the idea in his head, I guess. All this time I thought she hated me, but apparently she just thought I’d unknowingly had her grandchild.”

A hysterical laugh tried to bubble it’s way up her throat at the thought, but she clamped it down as tightly as she could. She’d been doing such a good job keeping her emotions in check. Now was definitely not when she was going to lose hold of them.

“Has he taken a paternity test yet?”

“No. I tried to look into it myself, but the stupid sperm bank still keeps paper records like we’re living in the eighteenth century or something.” She huffed, dropping her head onto the desk.

“Why not just have him take the test?” It wasn’t judgmental. John was never judgmental. Well, maybe to Oliver, but never with her. This question was just the next logical step to solving this problem. She could appreciate that even if it made her hands tremble. “I’m sure you’re both probably going out of your minds wanting to know. Why not just do it?”

She couldn’t articulate exactly why she refused to have the test done, not even to herself. She just knew that the moment she did, everything would change. One way or the other, things would be different and she didn’t want that. She wanted to go back to the way things were, not have life throw her headlong into something new.

“I get that this is scary,“ John said, his voice soft and kind, “but you should find out for sure before worrying about it. It might all turn out to be nothing.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and met his eyes. If they were having this conversation than she might as well be honest. “I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Tears burned behind her eyes, and she blinked them back, taking a few deep breaths. John didn’t push. He waited patiently for her to compose herself and then waited even longer for her to figure out how to put her thoughts into words.

“Every time I look at Emma, I… I keep seeing the resemblance. I can’t help myself. The set of her lips, her nose. God, her eyes.” She sucked in a breath. “I never realized that she has that same dark blue rim around the edge of her iris that he does. It’s… John, what happens if he’s her father?”

And that was the root of all her fears. Despite what she’d told Oliver, if he turned out to be Emma’s father, it would change everything. She’d never keep him from his daughter and she’d never keep Emma from her father. But the way things were… Oliver didn’t want _her_. Just Emma. So where did that leave her? Did they share custody? Did he get weekends and every other holiday?

The feeling of rejection, the same one that had nearly knocked the wind out of her when he’d run out of her apartment the night she’d almost kissed him, burned brighter than ever in her chest. Still, it wasn’t the worst scenario she’d come up with in the past few days.

Oliver had told her once that he wasn’t boyfriend material, but he’d always had an old fashioned sense of responsibility. If he found out Emma was his daughter, she was terrified that he might push for their relationship to be more. It wouldn’t matter that it wasn’t what he wanted, he’d do it because it was the right thing to do. She knew it and she hated him for it. She hated the universe for it. It was dangling exactly what she wanted before her eyes, but none of it was real. She wanted a family with Oliver and now maybe she had one, but it wasn’t real. It was just a freak accident. He still didn’t want her. Not the way she wanted him.

Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face because compassion swirled in John’s eyes. “You know he loves you, right? You and Emma, both.”

“I know,” she said with a little sniff. “But he’s never going to be that guy, you know? He told me, straight up, and I understand that, but I’m afraid that if he finds out Emma’s his he’ll want to… do the right thing or something. And I can’t… I… It hurts too much. It’s like the universe gave me exactly what I wanted, but in the cruelest way possible.”

John cursed under his breath, then stood and rounded the desk, pulling Felicity up into his embrace. She didn't realize she’d started crying until she felt her tears dampening his shirt. “Hey,” he said, warm and comforting, “everything is going to be okay.”

She nodded into his shoulder, but she wasn’t so sure.

“Just talk to him, Felicity. Ninety percent of your problems would be solved if you two would just talk to one another.”

“I told him I didn’t want to know,” she said, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “And I don’t really, because as long as I don’t know, then nothing has to change.”

“Sometimes change is a good thing.”

“What if I lose him?” she whispered.

John’s features softened, and he shot her a small understanding smile. “I don’t think that’s something you ever have to worry about.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep fortifying breath. She knew he was right. They couldn’t go on like this. They needed answers and a plan and… just to talk to each other. She felt like she hadn’t really talked to him in so long. She missed him more than she could say. She missed the phone calls and the constant texting and movie nights and home cooked dinners where he’d practice whatever recipe he’d read about recently and she’d happily be his guinea pig because at least it was Big Belly Burger again. She just… missed her best friend.

“You’re right,” she said with a nod. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Felicity…”

She pulled away, wiping away tear tracks with the palm of her hand. “It’s the first night of Hanukkah. I can’t tonight.”

He gave her a look, and she sighed.

“He’s in a meeting, anyway. I promise, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. We’ll figure it all out.”

John nodded, but Felicity could see he was skeptical. Which just meant that she’d get an earful if she didn’t follow through on her promise. But she was going to because this restless feeling churning in her gut was unbearable and she knew the only way to relieve it was by talking to Oliver.

###

“You need to talk to Felicity.”

Oliver paused, his drink halfway to his mouth, and glanced up at his best friend-slash-bodyguard. The other man was watching him from the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression tugging at his features.

He sighed, taking a long sip of his scotch, and sat on the couch. “Can I have twenty minutes to just relax before we start diving into the heavy topics? That board meeting sucked.”

“Figured. You were long gone by the time I came back to your office. The only time you slip out on me like that is when you’re upset about something.”

Leaning his head back against the couch, Oliver tried to block out the harsh words his board of investors had uttered less than an hour ago. He’d been doing okay with work and running an entire multimillion dollar company, but he was far from good at it. The board hadn’t cared for one of his ideas, letting him know in no uncertain terms that they wouldn’t back his play. It was times like these when he missed having Felicity as his assistant. He’d always run ideas past her before he took them to the board, and whenever he had a hard meeting she’d always know just the right thing to say.

Hell, who was he kidding? He missed Felicity every second of every day. Even when he was with her he missed her. But he’d broken their relationship, again and again, until there was barely anything left.

“I don’t think Felicity wants to talk to me,” he said, replying to John’s first statement.

“She told me,” he said, moving into the room, “about how you think Emma is your daughter.”

“You gonna tell me I’m crazy, too?”

“Is that what she told you?” John shook his head, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “She’s scared, man. She doesn’t know what to do.”

“Well, me neither!” Oliver placed his glass on the table, then ran a hand through his hair. “I had this all dropped on me, too. And now I can’t…” He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s like she doesn’t even care.”

“Come on, Oliver.” John took a seat on the arm of the couch. “You know that’s not true.”

And he did. He wasn’t so deep into his pity party that he thought Felicity didn’t care. Part of him recognized that she was probably just shocked and confused, but the other part of him couldn’t help but feel hurt. Finding out he might be Emma’s father was extraordinary. Confusing and scary, sure, but also kind of a miracle, and he just… he didn’t understand why Felicity wouldn’t want to know for sure. Except… didn’t he, though? He’d hurt her, first by running away from their almost kiss. And then showing up on her doorstep, drunk and raving about sperm, probably didn’t help. Not to mention his past history with women. She was probably right to keep him out of their lives in that way.

“I feel like I keep messing up,” he said eventually, running his fingers over his brow.

“That’s because you do,” John said, never one to mince words. “You’ve made a lot of mistakes with Felicity over the years.  And I think maybe you’re so obsessed over this donor thing because you see it as a second chance with her.”

“No… I—“ Oliver shook his head. “I know I don’t have a chance with her…”

“You _don’t_ have a chance with her.” The words slashed at something already wounded in Oliver’s chest and he glanced up to see John shaking his head. “And you’ll never have a chance with her. Not unless you pull your head out of your ass and _tell her how you feel_. She’s not a mind reader, man. She only knows what you tell her. And you keep saying one thing and then doing another. When was the last time you went on a date?”

“Huh?” His brow wrinkled in thought, surprised by the sudden change in direction. “I… don’t know.”

“It was over a year and a half ago. You haven’t been on a date since before Emma was born.”

Oliver looked at his friend, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I didn't know you were keeping track of my love life.”

John tipped his head to the side, giving him an exasperated look.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what his friend was getting at. He hadn’t dated in a long time. He’d been so busy with work and with Felicity and Emma, he hadn’t had the time. That’s what he’d told himself at first, anyway. After a while he’d realized he just didn’t have the inclination. When he was lonely he’d call Felicity. When he was stressed out and in need of a release, he go over and they’d share a bottle of wine and a pizza and binge watch terrible British sci-fi shows. When he needed someone she was always there to support him. And he wanted to be there to support her, too.

Oliver had discovered pretty soon after Emma was born that the thing that made him happiest was putting on smile on her and Felicity’s faces. He wanted to make them happy, he did, he just didn’t think he was capable of doing it. And now she was with someone else and she seemed happy and that was the most important thing, wasn’t it? So why couldn’t he seem to let her go? Why was it so important that Emma be his when she already was in every way that mattered? Why was the title so important, unless John was right and he saw it as some sort of second chance with Felicity?

“She’s seeing Billy.” He said it more as a reminder to himself than to John, but the other man just shook his head dismissively.

“For now. You should still talk to her, though. Tell her how you feel. Whatever happens, I promise you, it’ll be a relief to just get it all out on the table.”

“Mr. Diggle’s right, big bro.”

Oliver turned his head to see Thea flouncing into the living room, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders as she threw herself into one of the arm chairs across from him.

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know what we’re talking about.”

“You’re talking about how you’re in looooove with Felicity, but are too much of a wuss to tell her.”

“That’s not—I’m not a wuss.” Oliver turned a glare at his sister.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then why am I not planning an engagement party for you and my plucky future sister-in-law right now?”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “I think you’re forgetting how awful I do in relationships. Remember Laurel? Or Helena? McKenna? I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with. I won’t do that to Felicity. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves so much more than that.”

“You know what, you’re right,” John snapped and Oliver blinked in surprise. John was usually blunt, but this was something else. His words were clipped and harsh, as if he’d completely run out of patience. “You don’t deserve her. All this hemming and hawing. Felicity deserves a man who actually wants to be with her. Maybe this Billy guy _can_ take care of her and your daughter better than you can.”

Oliver’s heart sank at his friend’s words. He wanted to be with Felicity. He wanted it more than he could articulate, but he was so afraid. Afraid of himself, of the future. But not a future with Felicity. He could see their future together as clear as day. Waking up beside her every morning. Making breakfast for Emma and watching early morning cartoons while Felicity got an extra hour of sleep before work. Stolen kisses at QC, sneaking out for lunch dates, coming home to family dinners. He could see it and he wanted it everyday for the rest of his life. It wasn’t a future with Felicity he was afraid of. It was a future without her. But… wasn’t that exactly what he had now? He’d only wanted to stay friends because he was worried he’d screw up and lose her, but he’d still gone and done exactly that. And now, instead of fixing his mistake, he was stubbornly insisting that it was for the best.

The realization that he was self-orchestrating his greatest fear, was interrupted by his confused teenage sister.

“Whoa, what?” Thea swung her legs off the arm of the chair, sitting up straight. She was glaring at Oliver. “Emma’s your daughter? I thought Felicity got artificially inseminated?

“She… did. It’s a long story and I don’t even know if it’s true.”

“Well, explain it. Now.”

So he did. He told her, cheeks red from embarrassment, about donating sperm when he was younger. He told her about their mother’s suspicions, which led to his own suspicions, which led to him showing up drunk on Felicity’s porch a few nights ago. Thea, to her credit, didn’t interrupt him even though he could see there were a few times she wanted to. She listened to the whole sordid tale and, when he was done, she sat back in her chair, a contemplative look crossing her face.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked, then her eyes narrowed into a glare. “And if you say nothing I’m going to smack you.”

Oliver huffed what might have passed for a laugh and pulled out his phone. Tapping open his messages, he shot off a quick text before he could talk himself out of it.

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“I’m asking her to meet me for coffee.” Oliver tilted his head back and sighed. “Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to say.”

“You just gotta speak from the heart, man. If you love her—and I know you do—then give her the choice and trust her to make the right decision for herself. You're a good man, Oliver. You’ve just gotta let yourself believe it.”

“He’s right, Ollie,” Thea said. “You’ve changed so much. Don’t be afraid to let yourself have something good.”

Oliver smiled, appreciating the kind words and trying to take them to heart. He would talk to Felicity, tell her how he felt, and trust her to know what she wanted. And if that was him, then he’d just have to hold onto her and never let go. A calm certainty that he’d do exactly that filled his chest, just as his phone vibrated with her reply.


End file.
